ODD CORNERS 

ISABEL ANDERSON 





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Class __x 



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Book .O-i^ 



Copyrig!it^'^_ 



CCPYRIGttT DEPOSIT 



Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library. of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/oddcorners01ande 



ODD CORNERS 



ODD CORNERS 



ISABEL ANDERSON 

(MRS. LARZ ANDERSON) 
Author of "The Spell of Japan," " The Spell of Belgium," etc. 



WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 




NEW YORK 

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY 
1917 






Copyright, 1917 
By DODD. MEAD AND COMPANY, INC. 



•**. : 


/ 


OCT ! 5 1917 


©GI.A47(>589 


14^ 1 . 






DEDICATED WITH LOVE 

TO 
MOTHER ANDERSON 



FOREWORD 

'' Odd Corners " is made up of notes taken on 
different trips. We have had the good fortune to 
travel in some out-of-the-way places, and have had 
a few unusual experiences and opportunities. 

I am greatly indebted to my husband for letting 
me use his journals, and I wish to thank my friends 
who have been so good as to give me photographs 
and information, as well as those who helped me pull 
my notes together. It is my hope that the book may 
suggest some new trips for the would-be traveler, 
and that it will also be of interest to those who would 
like to know a little more about the countries so 
much talked of in this moment of world warfare. 

With the exception of " Houseboating Down the 
Coast," which was published in Harper's Bazaar, 
and a few articles taken by the National Magazine, 
Sea Power and The Bookman, these chapters are 
new and are given to the public for the first time. 



vu 





CONTENTS 






CHAPTER 
I 


HOUSEBOATING DoWN THE COAST 


PAQB 
I 


II 


Round the Gulf . 


• 45 


III 


Across the Zone 




. 67 


IV 


Camping in Canada 




100 


V 


The Fringe of Alaska . 




110 


VI 


The Golden State . 




125 


VII 


Days in the Dry Lands . 




138 


VIII 


A Glimpse into Mexico . 




• 152 


IX 


Madrid to Morocco 




174 


X 


Eastward Bound 




200 


XI 


Some Cities of Ind . 




220 


XII 


In and Out of London . 




253 


XIII 


Cruising on the Catania : 
I South of England . 




268 


XIV 
XV 


Cruising on the Catania : 

II Kiel and the Edge of Den 
mark . . . . 

Cruising on the Catania : 
III In Norwegian Waters . 


277 
284 


XVI 


Crossing Two Continents . 


299 


XVII 


With Our Secretary of W/ 
China 


^R lis 


r 
327 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

A Corner in Shanklin . . . Frontispiece ^ 



FACING 
PAGE 



Houseboat Roxana . ..... 20 ^ 

George Hamilton Perkins . . . . 50 

Parade of Momus 58^ 

Balboa 74^ 

Going through Culebra Cut . . . . 86"^ 

Our Tepee Tents 102 ■ 

At the Foot of Mt. Assiniboine . . .102 - 

Views Going West . . . . . . 106*^ 

Sitka ......... 112 ' 

AttheMuir .... ., ., ,. 120 

On the Yukon River ...... 120 

Down the Trail . . . ,., . . 128 ' 
Leaving the Canyon . .. . . .134 v^ 

The City in the Sky . . . . . . 140^' 

Pueblo of Zuni . 144^ 

Dance of Ancestral Spirits .... 150 

Dance of the Sword Swallowers . . . 150 

On the Viga Canal 156 

Among the Mountains of Mexico . . . 162 

xi 



xu 



ILLUSTRATIONS 



FACING 
PAGE 


A Street in Oaxaca 170 i^ 


Royal Wedding Procession . 






. 1801 


Camel Caravan at Tangier . 






192 


St. Peter's .... 






202 '-^' 


The Gate of Jerusalem . 






208^ 


Through the Suez Canal . 






216^ 

228 ^' 


Juggernaut Cars — Southern India 






Jumma Musjid, Delhi . 






246^ 


Lulworth Castle 






268/ 


At the Mouth of the Dart . 






274 v/ 


Kiel Canal 






280 V 


OffMolde 






292^^^^ 


An Idyl of Little Russia . 






310- 


Near Peking 






330- , 


The Summer Palace 






342 / 


The Temple of Heaven . 






356^^ 



ODD CORNERS 




ODD CORNERS 

CHAPTER I 

HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 

OMETHING new under the sun — house- 
boating In America ! Few people reaUze 
that one can go practically all the way, 
with only one run outside— north of 
Charleston, South Carolina — on inland waters from 
New York to Key West. Of course you must choose 
the season carefully for fishing, shooting or gardens. 
You should be in Charleston the end of March or In 
early April to see the famous Magnolia Gardens In 
their perfection. Indeed, Charleston Is a very good 
place to end a winter houseboating trip, coming north 
with the spring. 

To start from Jacksonville or from Daytona on 
the Indian River in February, take In the gayetles of 
Palm Beach, If you like, fish on the Keys, and kill 
tarpon on the west coast In April or May, also makes 
a good cruise. 

To shoot wild turkey or quail, sail up the St. Johns 



2 ODD CORNERS 

or the St. Lucie; for ducks, look inside Cape Hat- 
teras. Choose your place, find out the open season, 
and get your license. 

Our Roxana is quite a perfect river boat — one 
hundred and fifteen feet over all, seventeen feet 
beam, steam power and two decks, and she draws 
but three and one-half feet. My stateroom is 
amidships, next to the dining-room, quite large and 
very comfortable, with its brass bedstead, deep 
closet, and bathroom; forward are four staterooms 
and bath, and a tiny library. The crew live both aft 
and forward. On the upper deck there is a sort of 
" den " and plenty of space for lounging. The 
dining-room, which will seat eight persons, contains 
the little piano that has traveled all over America 
with us — I am sure it is one of the most traveled 
pianos in the world, for it has been on a private car 
to Mexico and Canada, and all through the South- 
west and California. Roxana has been our home 
on many inland trips since we first went on board 
of her — indeed, you must have several trips to take 
in the many delightful experiences. 

One day our private signal, the black horse on a 
red field, was hoisted, and we boarded the houseboat 
at New London, sailed down the Sound, and dropped 
anchor off New Rochelle. Even the Captain admitted 
it was a " devilish " night there, with boats rocking 
back and forth, and bells and toots from foghorns. 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 3 

In the morning Roxana got under way, steaming by- 
yachts and Islands and a few handsome places on the 
shores into Hell Gate, which was calm and smiling, 
quite belying its name. We passed Blackwells 
Island, where the prisoners are kept and the work- 
house is located, then went down the East River, 
where we had a magnificent view of the enormous 
skyscrapers of New York reaching into the clouds 
like a city for giants. Small tugs were scooting about 
and great steamers going out to sea. The commerce 
of the earth is collected here ! 

Staten Island and Perth Amboy came next. Ship- 
building was going on. Many old, battered and 
weather-beaten vessels and barges were dropping to 
pieces, and masts sticking up out of the water in 
every direction. What tales these ghost ships could 
tell! 

At New Brunswick we entered the "raging 
canal," and a terrible storm came up. From the 
window, for houseboats do not have portholes, the 
landscape looked like a fascinating, blurred Corot 
picture. From here Roxana followed the Dela- 
ware and Raritan Canal to the Delaware River, 
passing farms and pretty country places and barges 
full of coal, and boys in canoes. Every lock has 
Its keeper and little house with plants in tin cans. 
The man gives a friendly nod and then turns the 
crank. The boat begins to sink; it gets darker and 



4 ODD CORNERS 

darker; only the slimy green boards are to be seen; 
you feel as if you were going down, down, you don't 
know where. 

Then Roxana glided on again by the towpath. 
The country looked mauve and apple green after 
the storm, our boat seemed like a dream house on 
runners, coasting over unreal fields. I watched a 
barge with mules, four in a line, pulling away on 
the rope fastened to the bow. The man stood at 
the wheel, and his watchdog barked, while a woman 
looked up from the cabin where she was cooking. 
You see many things, even on a canal, if you open 
your eyes. One poor mule was thrown or pulled 
by the rope into the water ahead of us, but with 
great difficulty the driver managed to get him out. 

When abreast of Princeton, we went ashore 
and drove to the town, a few miles off. Here the 
University buildings were magnificent. There was 
also a whole street of superb clubs, like charming 
private dwellings, where the students lived. Before 
we left, the main street was gay with lights and the 
men were singing songs in the college grounds. 

Past Trenton with its dim factories and filthy 
back yards we steamed. Dirty windows were pushed 
up, and men in undershirts and working girls looked 
out at us, and waved cheerfully. Then came Phila- 
delphia with its big wharves and great steamers 
loaded with lumber. 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 5 

On Roxana went down the river, out of the 
smoke pall of the big city, by Wilmington and 
Newcastle, till at last she entered the Delaware and 
Chesapeake Canal. Here we had a delightful day's 
sail, for you are obliged to go slowly in canals, and 
the locks through which we passed had pretty 
towns about them. This canal was one of the most 
attractive I have ever traveled through. At times 
it had lovely groves of trees overhanging it, and 
again the landscape opened out more like that of 
the midlands of England, the most perfect green 
rolling country broken with copses and ponds and 
even hedges. At one point the banks were so high 
that there was a bridge hanging far above us. 
Finally we wound through the creek that leads into 
the Elk River, near the mouth of the Susquehanna, 
and down the Chesapeake. The oystermen were 
out in their boats on the bay, some scooping 
up the oysters with a sort of rake, examining 
them, and throwing imperfect ones back into the 
water. 

The next stop was at Annapolis. The fine f agade 
of the Naval Academy set in beautiful grounds, 
with the cluster of the town behind and its old- 
fashioned steeples, made a most charming picture. 
We went ashore and were taken through the build- 
ings, for which ten million dollars was appropriated 
not long ago. They are grand and imposing, but 



6 ODD CORNERS 

perhaps a little too ornate. As a side trip we 
glided up the Severn River, by the ships of war at 
anchor — among them the historic Hartford, which 
was Farragut's flagship in the battle of Mobile 
Bay, and of which my father had command in the 
Pacific sometime after the Civil War. This river 
with its high red banks and the fields stretching 
away behind is one of the loveliest pieces of water 
1 have ever sailed over. The Academy crews 
were practicing, coached from a little torpedo 
boat, and in the late afternoon Roxana followed 
an exciting race between them down the splendid 
course. 

After hustling through dinner, we were taken in 
a new launch that was not in working order to 
some theatricals given by the middies, but 
came near being killed on the way. When the 
launch approached the wharf it went straight on 
and dashed into the dock, breaking the smokestack, 
so that the steam escaped. As it was a wet night 
and the canvas was down, I feared we should be 
sealed inside and scalded— caught like rats in a trap. 
The men soon got the boat under control, but the 
affair was rather exciting. 

Across from Annapolis, toward Whitehall Creek, 
is Whitehall itself, which stands in its little park, 
commanding a beautiful view of the Chesapeake. 
Having been built for the residence of an English 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 7 

governor, it is as fine as the Colonial houses on the 
James River. The woodwork was carved by pris- 
oners. The mansion consists of the main house and 
two wings, which are of red brick with white trim- 
mings. The old box of the original garden still 
remains. 

On the '' Eastern Sho' " of Maryland is Wye 
House, another of the famous Colonial residences, 
where the Lloyds have lived for nine generations. 
Unlike Whitehall, it is built of wood. It was much 
like the other old-time Southern houses — rare prints 
and antique silver, rather shabby rooms with bare 
floors, and a young colored girl setting the table. 
The orangery was covered with ivy, the box walks 
were overgrown and narrow, and the flowers were 
in bloom everywhere. 

Roxana next headed straight dovm Chesapeake 
Bay, passing Drum Point, to Solomons Island, a 
quaint little fishing town, where a whole fleet of 
rakish '' bug eyes " was at anchor. Finally we 
rounded Point Lookout (not far from which is 
Point Lookin) into the broad mouth of the Potomac. 

Little St. Marys River wooed us to another side 
trip, up its pretty waters, which wind among the 
greenest of hills, to St. Marys Point. This " odd 
corner " had its monument and cemetery and church 
embowered in trees, and a fine old-fashioned house 
with pillared porticoes, which seemed to have 



8 ODD CORNERS 

become a girls' school, from the number of young 
maidens who were about. 

Another day on the lovely Potomac, leaving 
Mount Vernon and Alexandria behind, and the 
houseboat tied up at the dock in Washington. 

For a trip along the southern coast we boarded 
Roxana one day at Norfolk, braved the Dismal 
Swamp Canal, had two beautiful, calm days inside 
Cape Hatteras, passing lighthouses and clubhouses 
on islands — for this is the region of ducks — and 
touched at Beaufort, North Carolina, where we left 
Roxana to await good weather for the run outside, 
while we went on by rail to Charleston, where we 
were to meet her. 

As General Robert Anderson of Fort Sumter 
fame was L's. granduncle, we were glad of the op- 
portunity to visit the old fortification. It was inspir- 
ing to recall how bravely it was held. Ships sent 
to relieve it could not pass the Confederate bat- 
teries. Anderson had sixty men, the Southerners 
numbered seven thousand. Yet he held the post 
through two days of bombardment till the fort was 
in ruins about him. He marched out " with colors 
flying and drums beating, and saluting his flag with 
fifty guns." 

In Charleston you get nearer than anywhere else, 
perhaps, to the real spirit of the old "' befo'-de-wa' " 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 9 

South. There are many ideally old-fashioned houses, 
with porticoes and gardens, and the Battery is very 
lovely, with Its esplanade overlooking the bay. 

But the greatest charm of Charleston lies in the 
Magnolia Gardens on the Ashley. At the end of 
March and In April they are a paradise of beauty. 
There are gorgeous tangles of azaleas and camel- 
lias and great drooping live oaks with gray trailing 
moss, and in the air the sweet perfume of holly and 
jessamine. Down vistas of arching giant shrubs In 
such profusion of bloom that the fallen petals carpet 
the paths with rich colors, you look to dark, deep 
pools that reflect the huge trees and brilliant 
flowers and mirror the splashes of sunlight. At our 
first visit, the azaleas were In most glorious display 
— some of them twice the height of a man — when 
we went again, the camellias were at their best, the 
branches so laden with the waxy blossoms that they 
trailed the ground. 

From Magnolia Gardens, Roxana followed the 
windings of the Ashley River for six miles through 
the meadows to Middleton. We tied our boat to 
the tumble-down dock and went ashore, up the turf 
steps and through a rattletrap gate to the terrace of 
the garden, which was laid out in formal plan. 

Although the main portion of the Middleton 
house was In ruins and marked only by the front 
steps, one wing was still standing and had been 



10 ODD CORNERS 

somewhat restored. These gardens, which cover 
some forty acres, were a continued delightful sur- 
prise to us as we moved from one terrace to another, 
past two long, green, stagnant tanks, both reflecting 
the greener magnolias on their banks, and the pink 
purple Judas trees in their drapery of gray moss. 
But there was a serpent in this paradise — a long 
snake was sunning himself by hanging from one 
branch to another across the walk, and there were 
alligators in the swampy water. As the sun went 
down, we sat on those lonely, forlorn front steps and 
looked out over the terrace to the river, and across 
the meadows to the forests beyond, which gave a 
sense of distance to the view. 

From Charleston southward our course wound in 
the most fascinating way through a region of islands 
and inlets. Out of the Ashley River Roxana 
steamed into Wappoo Creek, then through the 
short canal that was dug by the British General, 
Elliot, in a single night, in Revolutionary days — to 
surprise Charleston from the rear — into Stone 
River, twisting along the Wadelaw and the Church 
Flats to the broad reaches of the Edisto. On the 
way we passed farms of garden truck bordering the 
water, and picturesque shanties, and darkies in 
bright-colored kerchiefs and tattered clothes driving 
cattle to old stake plows. That night there was a 
new moon in the pale sky, and off over the potato 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST ii 

patches could be heard the chorus of negroes in 
camp meeting assembled. 

Past St. Helena Island and up Port Royal Sound 
we made our way to Beaufort, South Carolina, the 
summer resort of the planters in days before the 
Civil War. It contains fine old-fashioned houses, 
still elegant In their decay, with their gardens in 
rambling profusion. There were roses romping 
over broken trellises, and the fruit trees were in all 
the tender pink, purples and greens of spring. The 
churchyard, with Its old gravestones, and the wide, 
airy church, which was established by the Assembly 
In 17 1 2, were full of interest. 

We inspected some of the vegetable farms here, 
among which several men from Boston have a 
plantation. In one place five hundred acres were 
planted with lettuce, which was the main crop. Al- 
though this cannot be held over like potatoes for a 
rise in price. It averaged three thousand dollars to 
an acre. Cucumbers and cabbages were also grown, 
and celery was proving a success. 

In June the truck gardening is finished. Then 
corn Is planted, and later cow peas, which are 
plowed under. As a fertilizer, phosphate is used in 
large quantities, sometimes as much as four tons to 
the acre. On some plantations, the water supply is 
conducted to the land by an overhead system of pip- 
ing, which cost several thousands to put up but has 



12 ODD CORNERS 

proved successful. North and south of Beaufort, 
vegetables may be touched by frost, but owing to 
the nearness of the Gulf Stream, in this particular 
spot they are safe. 

Further on, down Port Royal Sound, we stopped 
off at Port Royal. Here the first settlement in 
South Carolina was made, and off Hilton Head, 
at the entrance to the Sound, occurred the first 
naval battle of the Civil War. We especially 
wanted, however, to see the United States Naval 
Disciplinary Barracks. This was the largest deten- 
tion station of its kind on the Atlantic coast; there 
was another on the Pacific. They had been estab- 
lished a few years before by Mr. Winthrop, Assist- 
tant Secretary of the Navy, at the suggestion and 
with the help of Major Charles B. Hatch, of the 
Marines, who had been stationed at Portsmouth, 
New Hampshire, and there had seen the results of 
prison life on the sailors. Major Hatch felt that 
many seamen who, for getting drunk and commit- 
ting military offenses, were put in prison and after- 
ward dishonorably discharged, might be saved for 
the navy by the proper treatment. The constant 
dismissal of offenders was a most expensive form of 
punishment, for many of them were trained men, not 
criminals, who had gotten Into trouble simply 
from carelessness. 

A board composed of Captains Robert L. Rus- 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 13 

sell and Henry B. Wilson, U.S.N., as well as Major 
Hatch, recommended that men committed by court- 
martial should be divided into three classes : 

1. " Those convicted of a crime not of a purely 
military nature." These went to the New Hamp- 
shire State Prison at Concord, the Connecticut State 
Prison at Wethersfield and the California State 
Prison at San Quentin. 

2. " Those convicted of military offenses, whose 
separation from the Service Is necessary or desira- 
ble. 

3. " Those convicted of purely military offenses, 
who may be developed Into desirable members of 
the Service." The Port Royal Barracks contained 
only the third class. In other words, most, If not 
all, were put there for having been off on drunken 
sprees and then deserted, but they were young men, 
not confirmed drunkards, and were worth saving. 
Officers on shipboard have not the time to put men 
on probation or pay any special attention to them. 

Besides the barracks, the buildings on the Island 
Included the post exchange, the store, the library 
and a billiard room. There was not only a guard- 
house but also a hospital. Prisoners who had been 
deserters often came to the station in an anemic con- 
dition, but they improved greatly with good food 
and a regular life. 

At the time of our visit there were at Port Royal 



14 ODD CORNERS 

about five hundred detentioners and a guard of one 
to two hundred marines. Major Hatch was in 
command. There were six officers of marines, two 
medical officers, and one paymaster. The guard 
was made up of selected men, who received extra 
pay. 

The majority of the prisoners were young men 
from the Middle West. They were sent to Port 
Royal for different terms, varying from four months 
to two years, according to their offenses, They did 
not wear prison garb, but naval uniforms, and were 
allowed three dollars a month for toilet articles, 
paper and tobacco. As many of them were very 
ignorant, a school had been established at the sta- 
tion, where reading, writing, carpentry, mechanics 
and cooking were taught. A radio station with an 
experienced instructor was provided for them. 

The detentioners did all the work on the build- 
ings and grounds, and were drilled on shore and in 
boats in the duties of a sailor. For amusements the 
men had five different baseball teams, which played 
one another, a roller skating-rink, a swimming tank, 
and a recreation hall where moving pictures were 
given. 

On arriving, the prisoners were divided into com- 
panies, the petty officers being detailed from their 
own number. They were at first allowed to exer- 
cise only in an enclosed yard, but by good behavior 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 15 

they earned the freedom of the Island, then the 
privilege of visiting the mainland. If they kept 
sober and obeyed the regulations during the first 
two-thirds of the term, for the remaining third they 
were given full pay and the same liberty that men 
have when on duty in the Service ; and at the end of 
their detention they had the privilege of going back 
Into the navy or the Marine Corps. Sixty-five per 
cent, of them all made good. The commander of 
the ship to which they were detailed, however, al- 
ways knew that they had been at the island for 
discipline, and If they committed another offense 
they were tried by a Summary Court, and usually 
were dishonorably discharged from the navy. The 
whole scheme appeared to be working well, but for 
some reason last year the station was closed. 

Through endless twisting creeks, Roxana con- 
tinued her way past a lighthouse kept by a woman — 
we saluted her and whistled, and out she came and 
waved — to the Savannah River and to Thunderbolt, 
near Its mouth. In Savannah Itself azaleas were in 
glorious bloom In the parks, and crocuses, hya- 
cinths and irises beneath magnolias and palms. The 
old-fashioned squares gave a style to the careless 
Southern appearance of the place. There Is also a 
" downtown," which Is prosperous and ugly. 

The coast of Georgia is skirted by islands which 



1 6 ODD CORNERS 

are separated by rivers innumerable, the largest of 
them, like the St. Marys, being navigable for many 
miles. Every now and then a sound is reached, the 
mouth of a river, and a view of the sea outside. The 
marshes, through which creeks twist and wind, are 
wholesome, for the tides flow through them, but the 
waters are muddy and brown in comparison with 
the crystal waters of the Florida Keys. We visited 
the Van Rensselaer and Wilson plantations, which 
border the broad marsh lands. 

The Wilson place, on the May River, about four 
hours from Savannah, contained thirty thousand 
acres besides an island, which was kept for hunting. 
In old days this section was the hunting ground of 
Indian tribes ; later it was settled by the French and 
raided by Spaniards from Florida. 

The grounds about the house had been made pretty 
by planting jonquils and hyacinths along the paths, 
so that the air was fragrant with scents and the eye 
delighted with colors. Saddle horses and mules for 
driving were kept in the stables. The kennels were 
interesting, with bloodhounds, deer hounds and fox 
hounds, as well as retrievers and pointers for birds. 
Occasionally the dogs were used for another sort of 
hunting. One of the bloodhounds had lately tracked 
a negro who had committed some offense into the 
city, where he was caught. 

The island contained a great variety of game. 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 17 

We saw many skins of raccoons, snakes, rabbits 
and foxes, and a wildcat was brought in while we 
were there. There was good gunning for wild 
fowl of different kinds, such as snipe, ducks, plover 
and marsh hens, and wild turkeys and deer were 
especially abundant. 

The Wilsons grow cotton, but it was said that, 
unless one had a large tract of land, this crop 
brought in little return. During the cotton-picking 
they often had live hundred hands at work, women 
as well as men. The women were paid fifty cents 
a day, the men seventy-five. 

Having passed Wassaw and Ossabaw — delight- 
ful Indian names — Roxana pushed on through 
the windings of Kilkenny Creek to the Van Rens- 
selaer plantation, and dropped her mud hook into 
the turgid stream. About us stretched the mead- 
ows, with the creeks sparkling in the sunshine, 
as far as Ossabaw Island and St. Catherines Sound, 
which opens to the sea. We had a fine tramp 
through the deep jungle and glades, with the sun 
glinting through the trees and the sweet smell of 
pine and sand, and we started up wild turkeys and 
all sorts of game, and heard the baying of the 
hounds in the distance as they jumped the deer. 

St. Catherines, one of the famous sea-cotton 
islands, we found decidedly the most primitive 
plantation. A crowd of darkies had gathered at the 



1 8 ODD CORNERS 

wharf as we stepped ashore from the launch. The 
men wore ludicrous combinations of cast-off cloth- 
ing, while the women were dressed in gay-colored 
calico rags, with turbans on their heads. Aunt Liza, 
her father, old Adam, who was well on toward a 
hundred, and Parson Christmas, stood out among 
the others. 

Soon, leaving the little crowd behind, we followed 
a white oyster-shell path under blossoming peach 
trees to the old plantation house, which stood well 
back from the water in the midst of its garden, cov- 
ered with creeping ivies. Tangled lanes led us 
slowly on toward the lake, which reflected tall 
cypress trees and old magnolias. Redbirds flew 
about on the errands of their home-making, and the 
air was filled with the scent of the sweet holly. 

We had' barely reached the house when I was 
surprised to hear in the distance the wailing voices 
of the darkies. When I inquired the reason for 
this, Christmas, the " preaching nigger," explained 
that the darkies had been wailing for days over the 
approaching end of the world, which they expected 
that very night. The little ragged pickaninnies were 
crying with terror. The great black " gaily " ne- 
groes with their unintelligible language and their 
barbarous ways, had been shouting and praying for 
days and doing no work. The whole colored popu- 
lation was in a state of great excitement. The cause 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 19 

of the disturbance was Halley's comet. Astrono- 
mers had predicted that the earth was to pass 
through Its tall, and many thought the end of the 
world was coming. 

The parson was a big gaily negro, a mighty 
hunter, we learned, on week days and, by virtue of 
his " gift of gab," the local preacher on Sundays. 
His pulpit reputation was much enhanced by the 
fact that he had been bitten by a rattlesnake and had 
survived. 

The negroes dwelt In little tabby cabins down be- 
hind the big house, large families of them swarm- 
ing together In a single room and cooking before 
one fire In the open. The pickaninnies hardly wore 
clothes enough to cover them, and none of them 
could read or write. 

That evening we went to their meeting house. 
They were praying in a cabin dim with spiderwebs 
and smoke, and half lighted by one small kerosene 
lamp. The service was in full swing. Aunt Liza 
was playing the two chords she knew on an old 
spinet, first one chord, then the other. The darkies 
were howling like wild animals. 

Parson Christmas recited a line from the Bible, 
then the congregation repeated it over and over In 
song. 

" Let us pray fo' old Uncle Ned," said Christ- 
mas. " He died yesterday fo' fright of the comin' 



20 ODD CORNERS 

of the comet. We hope he's done gone whar we're 
right sure he ain't. " 

The huddled congregation laughed hysterically 
at this sally. We wondered if Christmas was try- 
ing to keep up their spirits. After a moment of 
silence the old woman at the spinet wailed aloud : 

''I wish I wuz a June bug, dat I might fly to de 
Lord!" 

From across the cabin came the parson's quick 
response, " Bress your soul, Liza, a woodpecker'd 
get yuh fo' yer got there ! " 

The congregation laughed louder and more hys- 
terically than before. Then the parson continued 
his discourse : 

" Mary's bebe's det and suffrage when he walked 
in the garding of Yosemite. Christ is risen. Ain't 
dat so, brethren? " 

" You bet ! " responded the congregation, eagerly. 

" Mary's bebe is the bread of life, and ye shall 
love each other as thyself." 

Somewhat relieved by the safe conclusion of the 
sermon, his audience retired behind the benches and 
had a " foot-wash." After this primitive ceremony, 
they gathered about the altar for a fellowship hand- 
shake. This was a continuous ladies' chain, men 
and women courtesying and bowing to each other, 
turning their toes first this way and then that, jump- 
ing now on one foot, now on the other, and shout- 



^^a?:' 




HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 21 

ing loudly all the time. As the excitement increased, 
their antics grew madder and madder. 

Even Christmas had been drawn into the whirl- 
pool of emotion and was waving his arms and 
shouting with the rest. He had not needed Elder 
Sunday's encouraging, ^' Go it, parson, go it! " 

All the while the crowd was wailing, " Save us, 
O Lord, save us! The comet's a-coming! Oh, 
save us, good Lord!" in an ecstasy of tragic 
frenzy. 

Finally Christmas stumbled to the floor, ex- 
hausted as any dancing dervish. The cabin shook, 
the lamp flared and went out and — strangest of 
all — the air was filled with musical vibrations, as of 
a harp that echoed and resounded. We heard the 
scramble and rush of heavy bodies as the crazed 
negroes struggled for door and windows, and the 
muttered groaning of "Save us, O Lord!" A 
wild voice shrieked, " The angels is a-playin' on 
their harps! The end of the world am come! " 

One of our company struck a match and succeeded 
in relighting the lamp and restoring order. The 
negroes, timidly returning, were made to realize 
that the disturbance had been caused by Christmas 
who, in falling, had struck the old spinet and 
knocked it over. Moreover, the dawn of another 
day was already showing in the sky, and the danger 
from the comet had passed. 



22 ODD CORNERS 

The now thoroughly chastened Christmas was 
dispatched to help bring in some deer which had 
been shot the day before, and the darkies were 
ordered to set to and have a feast. Finding them- 
selves still alive, and with the hope of a good meal 
before them, they were soon able to forget their 
terrors and take life more cheerfully. We left 
them sitting around a big bonfire, cracking jokes 
about the comet. 

As we were too excited to go to bed, we did not 
return directly to the boat, but wandered out through 
the sleeping garden to the forest beyond. The 
moist air was soaked with perfume, as we paced 
slowly down the path. Then the way opened sud- 
denly upon the sand dunes rising white as snow in 
the pale moonlight and reaching far out among the 
black cedars to the roaring sea beyond. We 
watched the dawn grow lighter and the sun rise 
slowly, flushing the gray sky into glorious colors. 

From St. Catherines we sailed through creeks 
inside St. Simon Island and across St. Simon Sound 
to the Brunswick River, near Jekyl Island. Of the 
sea-cotton islands, Jekyl and Cumberland, v/hich 
are much alike, are in some respects quite a con- 
trast to St. Catherines. Jekyl has a delightful club- 
house, where people from the North spend weeks 
during the winter. 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 23 

Leaving Jekyl Island we passed the mouth of the 
Satilla River, up which lay Colonel Clinch's great 
plantation, crossed St. Andrews Sound, and glided 
on to Cumberland Island. The game is preserved 
here, and even some wild cattle and ponies. The 
Carnegie family, the present owners, have named the 
island Dungeness, in honor of their Scottish home. 
In this jungle are excellent roads and many lovely 
bridle paths, through which we took long drives in 
motor and carriage. The different members of the 
family have built at various points on the island, 
choosing the spots where the plantations stood, 
so that they have ready-made old-fashioned gardens 
with fine trees in avenues and hedges in form. 
The houses are handsome and comfortable, and 
there are swimming baths and tennis courts 
and everything that could be wanted. The moss- 
draped live oaks, which form splendid shaded ways, 
and the holly and magnolia with their glossy leaves, 
and the sparkling sea seen through the tangle, all 
make the island especially attractive. 

Though Cumberland Island seems remote, it is 
not without its associations with early American 
history. It was originally granted to General Na- 
thaniel Greene, and in one of the little vine- 
embowered cemeteries lies the body of Light Horse 
Harry Lee. 

.We went past Fernandina, on Amelia Island, 



24 ODD CORNERS 

into Nassau Inlet, and through Sisters Creek and 
the inside channel to the St. Johns River and 
Jacksonville. We motored from there to Atlantic 
Beach, where a large hotel had just been built. 
Here also lots were being marked off and bungalows 
put up. The place promised to be a great summer 
resort for the people of Jacksonville, as there was 
a good road all the way from that city. Figs do 
well in this region, but anywhere north of St. Augus- 
tine orange trees were liable to be killed by frost, 
we were told. 

As we scooted through the woods, my curiosity 
was roused by the sight of a small house in the 
jungle. In answer to my Inquiries I was told that 
a trained nurse had lived there alone for many 
years. It was said that because she had caused the 
death of a patient by giving him the wrong medi- 
cine, she was atoning for her carelessness by this 
exile in the wilderness. 

Near the mouth of the St. Johns River, in the 
direction of Mayport, a woman whom we knew 
had bought land, and had come in a caravan from the 
North, gypsy fashion, with eight horses and several 
colts and dogs. We found her camped on the prop- 
erty, living in a prairie wagon, and directing the 
workmen who were painting the house, while her 
horses were hitched to dump carts and hauling sand. 

In the woods, not far from Atlantic Beach, are 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 25 

the remains of old Fort Caroline, built In 1564, by 
the Frenchmen who founded here a short-lived set- 
tlement. To begin with, the Indians camped at the 
place for years and dumped their oyster shells. 
Then their successors used the shells to build the 
fort. 

From Jacksonville we explored the St. Johns 
River for about two hundred miles. At one place 
we saw a great tract of white pine on fire, the flames 
jumping from tree to tree In the wind, the branches 
swaying as the green needles turned brown and 
shriveled beneath a fiery touch. As they withered 
and crumpled there was a sound of sighing that 
might have come from living creatures. 

We amused ourselves on the boat by shooting at 
floating bottles and looking at the sturdy fishermen 
as they drew in their nets, full of shad and herring, 
or sat under their picturesque huts by the cabbage 
palms. One strange fish, the swell-toad, was caught 
from our boat. This fish puffs up In a curious way 
when tickled out of water, and when cleaned and 
dried It makes a unique lantern. It was also inter- 
esting to watch the lumbermen, those careless butch- 
ers, standing ankle-deep in water on their floating 
rafts while they cooked and ate their meals; it was 
difficult to feel properly sympathetic for their hard 
lot in view of the damage they were doing to the 
forests, for often young trees were uselessly cut and 



26 ODD CORNERS 

thrown aside, where only selected ones should have 
been felled. 

But most of our time was spent just sitting at the 
rail and watching the endless windings of the 
stream uncoil as we slowly and quietly moved along, 
turning, twisting, with the trees scratching the sides 
of the boat. Now and then we ran ashore, and 
there were puffings and pullings till we slowly slid 
off again. 

At moments I felt like Stanley as we turned some 
sudden bend in the sluggish river and looked 
through the jungle. We did so much turning that 
our steering gear gave way — just at the right place, 
however, for we dropped our little anchor, and our 
boat swung easily round till the stern touched and 
overhung a bank, so that we were able to step off. 
We wandered across a delightful plateau with a 
thick undergrowth of handsome palmetto, out of 
which rose the tall palms in their dignity and 
through which led natural paths. *' With gun and 
camera " — L. with the camera and I with the gun, 
if you please — we wandered, and I had shots at 
quail, and L. had " shots " with the camera at every- 
thing in sight. 

Roxana twisted along up the St. Johns to Lake 
Monroe and to Sanford, where we tied up for the 
night. The town was tumble-down and paper- 
strewn and unkempt, though one of the important 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 27 

places of " darkest Florida " — for the darky is here 
black indeed. 

Turning our course again downstream from here, 
we stopped at a tiny village set near a splendid live 
oak grove all festooned with gray Spanish moss. 
Such a grove, I have come to realize, has greater 
beauty and dignity than even a park of English 
elms. On the steps of a ramshackle store a darky 
sat playing an old guitar, and we persuaded him to 
get some other boys and come down to the boat. 

So they played for us, strumming and singing, 
while dancing clogs and cakewalks. They were such 
real darkies, and they grouped themselves so pic- 
turesquely, their dancing was so weird out there 
under the moon, they worked their arms and heads 
so absurdly, and kept such wonderful time to the 
music ! 

After they had gone away, L. and I took our 
ukulele and walked away beneath the roof of the 
forest. The soft radiance of the flooding moon- 
light came down through the glades, making the 
great trees seem even taller and more imposing. 
The forest was very deep and solemn and mys- 
terious as we passed in together. But we played 
and sang, and the river re-echoed the sounds, and 
the owls hooted and laughed. For a moment the 
forest awoke. Then someone on the boat sounded 
taps on the bugle, and it slept again. 



28 ODD CORNERS 

Our trip was varied by exploring the little stream 
known by the uninteresting name of Dunns Creek — 
Roxana ran off the chart here. All along the river 
cattle were standing in the water feeding on the 
green floating hyacinth, while razorbacks wandered 
on the banks. The cattle are branded and turned out 
to feed, and little enough they get. Every once in a 
while we came upon a fisherman's cabin, and two 
or three men with their boats and nets. They were 
not supposed to put the nets entirely across the 
stream, but they sometimes did so, and in conse- 
quence we cut through several. 

We took advantage of the opportunity to visit 
San Mateo, the Fruit Company's plantation in these 
parts. Indeed, there were several plantations here. 
On some, the orange trees had been killed by severe 
frosts a few years before, others were just being 
planted, and on still others the trees were quite large. 
To start a plantation, a man would build a little 
frame house and set out trees, and if all went well, 
in a few years he would be making a thousand dol- 
lars an acre annually. 

We saw two orange groves with tent-like cover- 
ings to be drawn over in cold weather. Fires were 
also built between the trees. The Fruit Company's 
grove, however, had a high wooden fence about it, 
and the trees were under a vast trelliswork, over 
which were half-drawn awnings. The house of the 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 29 

overseer in charge stood on the highest land east of 
the St. Johns River, which seemed like a mountain 
but was only ninety feet above sea level. On the 
piazza he had a thermometer which, when the mer- 
cury dropped to a certain point, rang an alarm, so 
that even in the night he would get up and have the 
coverings drawn. The special reason for so much 
care was not only to protect the oranges from the 
cold, but also to make it possible to leave them on 
the trees longer and to get higher prices. 

Highway taxes, such an important item of ex- 
pense in New England towns, seemed to be unknown 
here. One year they tried to have town laws for 
making and keeping up the roads, but they had 
given It up. The soil was so sandy that the roads 
made and kept themselves. Neither did there ap- 
pear to be any difficulty about pasturing the cows, 
which wandered about freely everywhere. 

Leaving Roxana at Palatka, we went up the 
Oklawaha in the regular steamer, a curious, awk- 
ward-looking, flat-bottomed and lopsided boat, but 
just fitting the river, as It proved. The tiny cabins 
of the queer vessel were sufficiently comfortable for 
the one night, and the food was very good darky 
cooking. 

By the light of the full moon it was a mysterious, 
haunting land, a veritable purgatory of sadness, a 
country of lost souls. The winding, snake-like 



30 ODD CORNERS 

river along which we were gliding so slowly gleamed 
here and there, disappearing and reappearing amid 
the sinking, imploring tree-spirits of the swamp. 

The white trunks of the decaying cypresses sug- 
gested winding sheets; the gray Spanish moss hang- 
ing from the upper branches looked like disheveled 
hair, and the branches themselves rose as though 
lifted in supplication to the moon and the hope-giv- 
ing stars. On higher land a tract of white pines in 
the distance were fighting for their very existence. 
They were foreign to the swamp, stranded among 
strangers, and finding the drain and strain of life 
well-nigh unbearable, for they were slashed near the 
roots to make a pocket for the dripping sap from 
which turpentine is obtained, and this process soon 
means death to them. 

The woolly-headed royal palm trees, bowed by the 
wind, writhed like black men under torture, and 
seemed to beckon us to their aid. We wondered 
if the heart of the palm had been extracted to make 
us salads. 

The low-lying mist upon the water was like steam 
from the infernal regions, in the midst of which the 
occasional blaze on the pilot house became the 
wicked fire of devils. The shriek of the limpkin and 
the hoot of the owl voiced the misery of the swamp, 
and, to complete the horror of it all, black buzzards 
came swooping across the sky. 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 31 

At dawn everything changed. As if by magic, 
the river had been transformed into a very para- 
dise. Now one could see the scarlet leaf of the 
water maple in vivid contrast with the softly sway- 
ing Spanish moss and the green of the magnolia. 
Climbing wild nasturtiums and mistletoe hung from 
the trees, as though seeking to hide from us the 
creeping death which threatened. Here and there 
a sleepy alligator lay sunning himself along the 
bank, with his head poked out of the mud, and 
golden-brown turtles slipped away as we approached. 
Cardinal flowers stuck out stiffly from the shallow 
water, myrtle and swamp holly drooped from the 
banks, and floating hyacinths moved with the stream. 
As we wound up Silver Spring Run we could see 
the bottom through the crystal water, and watch 
garfish with their long noses and turtles scuttling 
away. 

Though the face of the scene had changed, yet 
the ghost trees haunted us, warning us of that day, 
not far off, when our land, stripped of its splendid 
forests by mere wanton wastefulness, shall have be- 
come as dry and arid as are Spain and Greece today. 

Returning to Palatka, we joined Roxana and 
steamed through the comparatively new canal, to St. 
Augustine, the most picturesque city in America. As 
everyone knows, this town has the distinction of 



32 ODD CORNERS 

being the oldest In the United States. It was 
founded by the Spaniards In 1565, and was the base 
from which they destroyed the French colony at the 
mouth of the St. Johns and raided the settlements 
on the Carolina coast. The fort they built Is still 
a well preserved ruin. About It Is a little " maldan," 
with clumps of stunted pine scattered over the plain, 
and a moat In which shallow water sparkles. In 
front of the town are the dunes and the sea, while 
behind extends the sea wall with Its tiny houses. 

St. George's Street Is a narrow way beneath bal- 
conied dwellings. Indeed, the whole place Is quaint, 
while the plaza with the great modern hotels about 
it, all In the Spanish style, is quite beautiful. The 
old governor's residence with its colonnades Is now 
the post office and custom house, and In the little 
plaza beyond is the old slave market. It was hard 
to realize that we were in America at all; the place 
was like some Spanish colony. 

From St. Augustine, we took the train for Day- 
tona, where we found Roxana waiting for us at 
the drawbridge. Here we had all the air that was 
moving over the water, yet could step ashore and 
walk to the town and the beach. Just opposite was 
the little toll house, which was very picturesque. It 
had the same nice keepers who had been so kind 
before in letting us use their telephone and lending 
us fishing tackle. 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 33 

We were In the midst of everything. Every 
motor car and person and carriage and tallyho that 
crossed to the races on the beach passed by us In 
long, endless, amusing procession. Indeed, there 
was occasionally a genuine excitement, as when an 
old gentleman driving an automobile calmly backed 
off the bridge, bang through the railing and plump 
into the water ! This was shallow, fortunately, and 
the poor old fellow was lucky to suffer nothing 
worse than a badly broken arm. 

It was the week of the motor-car races, Daytona's 
carnival time. What a wonderful beach that Is, 
stretching for thirty miles along the deep-sounding 
sea ! It forms the most remarkable motor-car 
race course In the world, with great breakers comb- 
ing In as far as the eye can reach for a background. 
Here we sat on the dunes and saw racing cars go 
past repeatedly at terrific speed, appearing away 
down the course as tiny spots that grew with amaz- 
ing rapidity till they flashed by with frightful 
bursts. 

After leaving Daytona, we cruised down the In- 
dian River slowly, for Florida waters had not been 
so low for years, and Roxana had to feel her way 
along. Every now and then she came to a stop on 
a " lump," but we had one great advantage, for if 
worst came to worst, we could take off our shoes 
and stockings and wade ashore. 



34 ODD CORNERS 

Roxana got away from Titusville late, for our con- 
denser was closed up with the sand and grasses we 
had worked through, and the men had been up half 
the night cleaning it out. About noon we stopped 
at Rockledge, one of the very prettiest little com- 
munities on Indian River. Roxana ran aground 
near Indian River Narrows, and while the men 
were working vainly to get her off, L. and I went 
fishing. 

It was interesting and wild, no beaches near, only 
mangroves growing on the ocean side. Rowing to 
a sandy island, where the pelicans make their nests 
in the sand, we saw them coming back at sundown 
with fish in their pouches. Then such a squabbling 
for food went on among the young, such flapping 
of wings, pruning of feathers, screaming and fight- 
ing to get at the food! Their heads looked like 
white daisies, and their cries seemed human. They 
were such awkward and absurd creatures as they 
stood in the shallow water or in great groups on 
the sandy land! Out over the sound the sun went 
down in crimson glory, and the moon floated silver 
in the sky and began to light its pathway across the 
lagoon. 

Pelican Island is a small government reservation 
for the protection of this fast-disappearing bird. I 
have understood also that the keys and islets and 
lagoons about the mouth of Mosquito Inlet have 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 35 

been reserved for game protection. We scared up 
innumerable wild fowl — hundreds of ducks and 
herons — and frightened the porpoises at their play. 
At times we came to narrower passes where the 
banks were bordered with palmettoes and scrub 
oaks, and it seemed very far away from civilization. 

A whole day was spent in the Narrows in light- 
ening the boat and trying to dig our way out. All 
the coal was taken from the bunkers and carried aft 
in bags, and the fresh water, which was precious, 
was pumped from the tanks into the boats on the 
after deck, so as to bring us down by the stern, and 
the sailors were in the water all afternoon digging 
away the bar about Roxana. 

Next morning, after a deal of hauling on anchors 
that had been carried out and backing and churn- 
ing, the houseboat got off the bank and began to go 
ahead slowly, but in the early afternoon our idiot 
of a pilot landed us hard on another lump, and the 
process had to be repeated. This inlet was so 
tropical it might have been off some coral reef of 
the South Sea Islands. We came to anchor in a 
lovely spot on the St. Lucie River. 

Sewalls Point had fascinating trails through tan- 
gled hummock, with its jungle of forest vegetation, 
gumbo limbo and rubber trees, hung with orchids 
that were beginning to bloom. It was one of the 
prettiest spots on the coast. 



36 ODD CORNERS 

The next day gliding through Jupiter Inlet, we 
could look out over the white, yellow and ochre 
sands. Here begins the wonderful coloring of sand 
and sea, the waters taking on all the exquisite blues 
and greens imaginable, and the mornings and eve- 
nings too beautiful with the reflected lights. We lay 
at anchor all afternoon down by Gilberts Bar, a 
delightful place with its devious channels and man- 
grove keys about, while fishermen's boats came 
chugging in with their boatloads of fish. Fishing is 
profitable here ; some of the men make thousands of 
dollars a year. 

Part of our crew went ahead up Jupiter Narrows, 
and during low water dug out a passage across a 
washout bar that the tides had made. Late in the 
afternoon Roxana cruised to this point and then 
kedged, by carrying cables across the river and tying 
up to mangrove trees and hauling with capstan and 
pushing with screw. So we got over and had a 
fairly easy time till night came on and we were 
anchored in placid Lake Peck — oh, odious name for 
such a romantic spot ! The keys looked so dark and 
queer in the moonlight, and strange calls and noises 
came out of the shadows. 

What a change the next day! Palm Beach was 
gay with motor-boat races, flying machines and 
music, and there was delicious bathing. We en- 
joyed our few days here. The gardens and cot- 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 37 

tages among the palm trees were wonderfully 
pretty, with Lake Worth on one side and the ocean 
on the other. 

The Poinciana, on the Lake Worth side, seemed 
the most luxurious, well kept hotel in the world. 
The guests were, many of them, gorgeously over- 
dressed. Cakewalks, dances, concerts and other 
entertainments were continually held. On the ocean 
side. The Breakers was more select and respectable, 
with older guests. Here were bathing and lovely 
walks, and chairs propelled by black men to carry 
you everywhere. At the Beach Club, the gam- 
bling club, they played for very high stakes, for 
almost everyone down there was some kind of 
"king" — a patent medicine or a soap king! A 
dinner was served at this club like Paris in its 
perfection. 

The only new feature that I discovered the last 
time I was at Palm Beach was the turkey-trotting 
under the palm trees, late in the afternoon. Tables 
were set among the palmettoes, and in the center a 
floor was laid for dancing. The moon was full, 
colored lights gleamed here and there, and the band 
played ragtime as the people swayed to the music. 
It reminded me of the scene at Zamboanga, in the 
Philippines, when General Pershing * gave his din- 

* General Pershing has since led our soldiers into Mexico, and 
is now in command of the American troops in France. 



38 ODD CORNERS 

ner to the Secretary of War, and we danced in the 
garden under the palms by the sea. 

The passage from Palm Beach southward was 
varied and interesting. The long reaches of the 
canal from the southern end of Lake Worth were 
bordered with oleander and wild grape and hibiscus, 
and at night were lighted by thousands of fireflies. 
The simple truck farms stretched back Into the coun- 
try, and the scattered workers looked up at the pass- 
ing ship with surprise. The winding stream led 
into Boca Raton, where mornmg glories trailed 
over the heavy undergrowth. New River Inlet had 
its changing channels and vividly colored waters, so 
beautifully clear, while outside the white surf was 
breaking over the bar. 

At the entrance to the " Chain '* canal a pitiful 
specimen of Florida " white " came aboard, and we 
had to pay our dues — the only dues along the coast 
— before he would let down the rusty old chain that 
barred the canal and our passage. 

Mud Lake was the only really dirty water all the 
way, and the houseboat fortunately moved through 
its soft bottom easily enough. We soon came into 
clear water again by Lake Dumbfundling, went on 
to Snake Creek, then into BIscayne Bay, and so to 
Miami. At one place in Snake Creek we suddenly 
saw, across a shallow channel, a lumping streak of 
mud and water boil away from our bow, and 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 39 

scared a huge manatee, or sea cow, which kept 
ahead until he was tired. The creature was some- 
thing like a seal, with a head reminding one of a 
cow as he rose to breathe and snort. When we 
drew near him, we found ourselves for a moment 
in the midst of a great herd of these strange sea 
cattle. What a turmoil there was as they scurried 
away in every direction ! 

Miami, like Palm Beach, has its big hotels and 
gayly dressed people. Here one could see a whole 
fleet of houseboats. From Miami we cruised among 
the keys. 

Then came a night when L. killed his first tarpon. 
It was dramatic and very unexpected, for few are 
caught on the east coast. With the light of a full 
moon falling on the gently ruffled waters of upper 
Biscayne Bay, we were trolling with rod and reel. 
Suddenly there was a " strike," and a rush of line, 
then the splendid " break " and the leap of Silver 
King that begins the fight for the finest of all game 
fish. The glorious silver streak in the moonlight, 
the weird rainbows of sparkling drops when rush 
followed rush — what could be more gorgeous than 
a huge silver fish flashing in the mystery of a moon- 
lit sea? He weighed about a hundred pounds, and 
it took nearly an hour to get him alongside. 

Another day L. went in a small boat among the 
keys through Angel Fish Creek to the ocean side 



40 ODD CORNERS 

for bone fish, which are considered rare and great 
sport — a comparatively small fish, weighing only 
up to ten pounds and covered with wonderful sil- 
ver scales. They are very shy and difficult to catch. 
They feed on the shallow flats, and their tails can 
be seen wiggling above the surface as they move 
along in search of the food on the bottom and break 
the shellfish with their strong jaws. The bait is 
cast with a rod and lies on the bottom until a fish 
picks It up; then, if he is hooked, there Is a splendid 
fight, for he rips up the shallow water in the strong 
rush and makes great sweeps of waves as he circles 
about. L. got two, one of them weighing nine 
pounds. As he rowed the long way back to the 
houseboat after dark, he passed a river full of sea 
fire, the most brilliant phosphorescence. 

There are over five hundred different kinds of 
fish to be caught off the Florida coast, and of course 
the bait to be used Is a very serious question. We 
caught, among other fish that are good to eat, Span- 
ish mackerel, red snappers, cavalli, kingfish and 
groupers. The last Is a coarse fish, but makes a 
good chowder. 

Near Caesars Creek we came to anchor In shal- 
low water, so clear that the bottom was magnified 
till we seemed to be floating in air. The creek is 
a passage between the keys from the bay Inside to 
the reef outside. The waters boil through it as the 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 41 

tides travel, and it Is very pretty with its mangrove- 
covered banks. It was the lair of Black Caesar, the 
bold buccaneer, who buried his treasure among the 
mangroves, where the crackers are still looking for 
it. For these are the waters of the wicked Florida 
wreckers of a hundred years ago. 

In Steamboat Creek we caught some good-sized 
groupers. We went out to the Great Florida Reef 
to see a wreck, but it was so very rough we did not 
stay long. 

The wonder of those Florida keys. In all con- 
ceivable tints of blue, pink, yellow and green — sail- 
ing over watered Ink or standing on an impressionist 
picture might give some idea of it. In and out we 
went among the mangrove isles, once in a while 
getting a glimpse of the marvelous railway across 
the ocean passes, In places like a Roman aqueduct 
skipping from key to key on high embankments and 
splendid cement causeways. 

We were trolling unsuccessfully In Jewfish Creek 
— the one connecting waterway from the northern 
to the southern keys — when we decided to take the 
train to Key West and see the railway, which had 
been completed since our last visit. It was not built 
without loss of life ; a terrible storm came up while 
it was In process of construction, and a boat contain- 
ing two hundred workmen was capsized and most of 
them were drowned. 



42 ODD CORNERS 

While we were considering the matter black 
clouds gathered; by bedtime the wind was lively, 
and at two o'clock the boat was dragging. Steam 
was gotten up and we moved to safer moorings, 
for Card Sound, where Roxana was lying, was 
whipped as white as the froth on an eggnog. 

The next morning we took the launch and jogged 
up a creek to a spot where the time table indicated 
the station of Tavernier. It was an unreal Alice- 
in-Wonderland morning; it seemed as if we were 
gliding over skim milk instead of real water. I 
hardly think I should have been surprised if the 
many-legged mangrove bushes had suddenly picked 
up their leafy skirts and walked away. Five peli- 
cans flew at us as if to make an attack, but ap- 
parently thought better of it and turned away. I 
was told the pelicans on Lake Worth that used to 
be so friendly and feed from our hands had been 
frightened away by the hydroaeroplane that takes 
people up from Palm Beach. 

When the launch arrived at its destination there 
was no station to be seen, nothing but a track. The 
captain of a boat nearby informed us, however, that 
we had to walk up the track for a mile or more and 
then flag the train at a platform. Nothing daunted 
we started, notwithstanding my white high-heeled 
shoes. At last, reaching the platform, we found a 
negro who gave us a welcome newspaper and offered 



HOUSEBOATING DOWN THE COAST 43 

us a tomato for refreshment. Both were enjoyed. 
The man told us he came from Nassau to work on 
the railway. 

As the train appeared, out of the bushes came a 
farmer, a nicely dressed girl and a good-looking 
boy. The negro from Nassau volunteered the in- 
formation that the farmer made a living off to- 
matoes. What an existence! For food, fish and 
tomatoes; no friends; schools far away, if any; and 
this unnatural color forever moving before their 
eyes. 

We jumped on the train and skipped from key to 
key of mangroves and palms, crossing on the white 
rock roadbed. The train went by Central Supply 
Station with long wharves and a few workmen's 
houses, great stretches of water and no harbor for 
protection. On we whizzed, over the seven miles 
of concrete viaduct of Bootts or Knights Key and 
over Bahia Honda, the deepest channel. 

Key West was rather forlorn and the houses 
ramshackle and Southern. To see something of the 
place we hired a horse and carriage from a negro 
— the horse looked as if he had never had a square 
meal; we thought he might die on the way about 
the town. There was an electric car on the main 
street, and in the distance were the Barracks and 
the Navy Yard. We visited the turtle farm, where 
many of the huge fellows were floating in tanks. 



44 ODD CORNERS 

They are by no means uncommon here — two boats 
had been out five days and brought in six of these 
enormous creatures. 

The boat from Cuba was late, but not so late as 
it sometimes is, and the horse didn't die, and we 
were able to get dinner on the dining car, so we had 
a great deal to be thankful for. The Captain met 
us at Central Supply Station, and we slipped into our 
bunks on Roxana, tired and content. 

At this dreary place, where, though it was called 
" supply station," we couldn't even buy bread, L. 
hired a launch and went fishing out by Alligator 
Light. Roxana got up steam and left the long 
white railway bridge with the rows of workmen's 
houses, and floated over the milky water to Long 
Key, where L. joined us. 

The next day was spent in fishing outside on the 
reef, where we could look down and see the won- 
ders of the deep. We jogged all over the place, 
trolling for sail fish, and the boat wobbled, and the 
rays of the sun sat upon our noses, but we enjoyed 
it, and the best of it was L. finally caught a sail 
fish, the long-wished-for prize. The big fellow 
jumped out of the water fourteen times, and it took 
about twenty minutes to land him. He was a 
beauty, his sail In perfect condition and his bill, too, 
so he was mounted and added to the fish collection 
on the walls of L's. den at home in Washington. 



CHAPTER II 



ROUND THE GULF 




E were off the Ten Thousand Islands 
of the western coast of Florida, cruising 
in the Gulf of Mexico on our way to New 
Orleans. The land we were skirting was 
the Everglades, a few years ago a trackless jungle 
never traversed except perhaps by some poor Semi- 
noles; recently, however, part of it has been explored 
and drained. Away back into it wind the greatest 
mosquito rivers in the world, breaking the man- 
grove growth into many islands. From the edge 
there stretches away a region of impenetrable saw 
grass, with hummocks of palmetto and scrub rising 
here and there. Water stands all over it, with some 
clear runs that are like silver streaks. But the Ever- 
glades is not a sv/amp at all, for the bottom is a 
kind of coral rock, and the water that comes pouring 
out at so many points is crystal clear. 

We anchored near Shark River, which is famous 
for its tarpon, and L. rowed in with a guide. In- 
numerable tarpon rose and rolled about them, but 

45 



46 ODD CORNERS 

wouldn't strike, and the mosquitoes almost ate them 
up. 

On again to Punta Gorda. The water was calm 
and heavenly, notwithstanding it was the gulf, which 
is really open ocean. We landed and wandered in 
the old hotel garden, all overgrown with weeds. 
Everything seemed to be going to seed in this sleepy, 
sunny town. 

The run up the coast to Boca Grande was also 
smooth and pleasant. Going ashore at Tarpon Inn, 
built only a short time ago, we engaged a fisherman 
to take us out that evening. To our surprise we 
found a whole fleet of fishing boats out in the moon- 
light. The full moon turned from red to yellows 
the lighthouse blinked and flashed, and the little 
boats with twinkling lights puffing along somehow 
made me think of a school of jolly porpoises out on 
a spree. The tide is swift, so here you do not troll 
but allow the line to run out with the tide. It was 
early in the season and this was not a lucky night, 
so we caught no tarpon. 

The next day was not quite so jolly; old Roxana 
with her bunkers light of coal jumped the rollers 
that were piled up by the southwest wind blowing 
over the gulf. Sarasota, where we planned to stop, 
couldn't be found ; anyway Roxana passed it, but we 
finally reached the mouth of Tampa Bay. 

Tampa had grown tremendously since our last 



ROUND THE GULF 47 

visit and looked quite lively with motors scooting 
about. After luncheon at the enormous hotel in 
Moorish style, and a walk in the park with its big 
bunches of bamboo and waving palms and pink 
hibiscus bushes, we went over a Cuban cigarette fac- 
tory and motored to Silver Springs, a sort of picnic 
place where there was a big tank of sulphur water 
for those who liked to swim. 

One night while tied up to a wharf, hearing the 
sound of singing in the distance, L. and I walked 
over to a large building that had been hurriedly 
slapped together for a revival meeting. Although it 
seated more than five thousand people it was 
crowded. The preacher said Tampa was the rot- 
tenest town he had ever been in. I have no doubt 
there was some truth in that, for it is filled with 
lawless Cubans. It was a Baptist meeting, and the 
minister, who did not speak very well, was fat and 
businesslike. To make things more interesting, the 
doors were suddenly locked. The Chief of Police 
afterward told us that he had received a letter warn- 
ing him that the building was to be blown up while 
the meeting was going on. We are still alive. 

The next day, at Bradentown, near the mouth of 
the bay, Roxana made a stop and we motored to 
Mrs. Potter Palmer's place, running south near the 
coast for about two hours or so, over very sandy 
roads. Along the way Sarasota turned up with its 



48 ODD CORNERS 

ramshackle hotel, and there were besides celery 
farms and turpentine groves with their negro cabins, 
and shanties of poor whites, too, swarming with 
children. Our driver assured us that the negroes 
behaved very well. They all live in one quarter of 
the towns, and of course do not mix with the whites, 
but they have the privilege of voting, which is more 
than they are allowed in South Carolina. The poor^ 
white trash in the back country live on fish from the 
streams, wild turkeys and vegetables. There are 
schools for the children, but we saw only two, and 
they seemed deserted, and the glass was broken in 
the windows. These Florida crackers looked lazy 
and wretched. 

Mrs. Palmer owns a large tract of land, and the 
pretty house, in which are some beautiful curios, was 
like an oasis in the desert. The garden on either 
side had the latest garden furniture, with statuary 
and fountains and latticework pergolas, and a lovely 
walk led from it through the natural growth under 
the gray veiled trees. 

Our next stop going north was Cedar Key, a 
fishermen's town of unpalnted houses, but with a 
railway — the only train leaving at six In the morn- 
ing — also a telegraph office and a fine new school- 
house. All the people turned out to see the boat 
and ask questions. One would have thought we 
were a traveling circus. 



ROUND THE GULF 49 

Nobody in his wildest dreams would go to Cedar 
Key unless blown in by the wind. Long ago a few 
South Carolinians settled there. There was a time, 
I am told, when Mr. Plant wanted to make it a suc- 
cessful railway terminus and connect it with Mr. 
Yulee's railway, which was already built to this 
point. Mr. Yulee, however, didn't care to join 
Mr. Plant in this scheme, and so the latter said that 
he would make Tampa prosperous instead and the 
grass would soon grow in the streets of Cedar Key. 
And it certainly did. The cows and chickens wan- 
dered aimlessly in them. The shanties were weather- 
beaten and tumbling to pieces, but gay with red 
geraniums in shining tin cans. In its slipshod South- 
ern way, the village was picturesque. Strangely 
enough, the place was burned to the ground the very 
day we left. 

A flotilla of sponge boats was also driven into 
port by the storm. Their high bows and slanting 
masts, painted blue and yellow and decorated with 
strings of sponges, were very quaint. They v/ere 
manned by dark-skinned Greeks with red kerchiefs 
on their heads, who looked quite like pirates. They 
could not speak English, but were friendly and very 
politely presented us with some sponges. Twice 
Roxana started out of the harbor — first, trying to 
sail north; then, as the wind changed, so changed 
we, and decided to go south to Tampa and take a 



50 ODD CORNERS 

steamer to New Orleans; but again the wind 
changed, and the Captain felt it was best to put 
back to Cedar Key. This was too much; we aban- 
doned our floating home, said good-by to our dear 
old Black Horse flag, and our houseboating for the 
moment was over. 

With bags innumerable, we piled into the car. As 
the trains did not connect, it was necessary, strange 
as it sounds, to travel both east and west and also 
north and south between Cedar Key and New Or- 
leans. Never before had L. and I crossed the South 
from Jacksonville to Mobile, so I was interested to 
see the country, which is flat and sandy, scraggly and 
scratchy, with stumps sticking up everywhere, a few 
pine trees yielding turpentine, and every now and 
then a hummock with groves of trees. The splendid 
magnolias grew as big as oaks, the dogwood was in 
flower, and the great masses of wisteria, apparently 
growing wild, covered the ramshackle shanties and 
even great trees with their lovely mauve blossoms. 

The fields were uncultivated, and we wondered 
what food the people lived on. The question was 
answered by the empty tins everywhere shining on 
the ground. Although the whites live in shanties, 
their children looked well dressed. All through this 
part of the South, the proportion of the people who 
can neither read nor write is very large. 

The Battle House at Mobile, which wc found 





George Hamilton Perkins 



ROUND THE GULF 51 

clean and comfortable, was a veritable haven of 
rest. The town was rather attractive, the streets 
were broad, and the parks quite pretty, but it was 
flat and altogether Southern in its appearance. 
There was little or no trade, the place was dying 
if not already dead. 

I read again the story of the battle of Mobile 
Bay, in the Civil War, and I quote from one of my 
father's letters, written directly after: 

** I passed the forts, with the rest of the fleet firing 
as rapidly as possible. Afterwards, in obedience to 
orders, I attacked the ram Tennessee, following her 
up closely, shooting away her smokestack and firing 
solid shot at her, until her flag was hauled down and 
a white flag raised. Her steering gear having been 
shot away, I took her In tow, and brought her to 
anchor near the Hartford (Admiral Farragut's 
flagship)." 

We engaged a launch and skimmed over the opal- 
escent yellow waters of Mobile Bay, vast in extent 
but very shallow. The day was misty, and the land 
on either side was very low. By the aid of a map 
in my father's book, we could tell very nearly the 
spot where the Tennessee surrendered to the Chick- 
asaw. We ran up under Fort Morgan, and could 
plainly see the green mounds and the old brickwork. 
Modern guns have been placed there now, and bar- 
racks and oflicers' houses have been built nearby. In 



52 ODD CORNERS 

trying to cross to the other side of the bay to sec 
Fort Gaines, which was five miles away, our boat 
struck a sand bar, but notwithstanding we got a good 
view, and fortunately floated off. Fort Powell 
could be seen in the distance, but there was not time 
to go very near. As it was, we sat eight hours in 
the launch. I was so happy to see the place where" 
my father had been a hero. 

These words from the inscription on the base of 
his statue, which stands on the State House grounds 
in Concord, New Hampshire, came to my mind with 
deeper meaning than ever before : 

'^ His achievements in Mobile Bay, when as Com- 
mander of the Chickasaw he compelled the surren- 
der of the Tennessee, won from the Navy unquali- 
fied admiration and from Farragut these words: 

' The bravest man that ever trod 
the deck of a ship.' " 

As we glided over these historic waters, I had 
time to scribble these few poor verses, which I put 
in here for sentiment's sake: 

'Twas over fifty years ago 

The Chickasaw in Mobile Bay 
In bulldog grip held fast her foe, 

The Tennessee, that bloody day. 

Cried Perkins: "Shoot another round; 

Now strike the bow and blast the stern; 
Just keep it up, boys, pound and pound, 

Until at last we've seen her burn! " 



ROUND THE GULF 53 

The monstrous ram was filled with shot, 
Down came her flag, up went the white, 

The battle raged both hard and hot; 
So ended this most glorious fight. 



I think I hear a call, I halt! 

The sailors' souls are passing by; 
The breeze is fresh, a smell of salt — 

Oh, what a splendid way to die! 

This eve I think of one I love; 

The sea is gray, the moon shines bright; 
I gaze to heaven far above ; 

The brave look down here every night. 

Between Mobile and New Orleans the railway 
crosses long stretches of swamp, with little lakes and 
rivers breaking through, or wide passes, where the 
ocean makes in toward Lake Pontchartrain; nearby 
is Pass Christian, the famous Southern resort. 
There are many shooting clubs on the marsh lands 
and bayous, where ducks and snipe are to be had. 

We reached New Orleans about seven in the eve- 
ning, and were at once taken in charge by some hos- 
pitable friends, who drove with us through streets 
that were picturesque in their dirt to the broad 
asphalt avenues of the better section of the city, and 
the St. Charles Hotel, where we found rooms. 

" I thought I remembered the St Charles Hotel 
as a fine old-fashioned house with large rooms and 
good service," said L., " but I must have simply in- 
herited the recollections of the members of the fam- 



54 ODD CORNERS 

ily who, in the olden days, used to come down by 
river from Cincinnati to a holiday at the old St. 
Charles, for the present hotel is very disappointing 
— dirty rooms and poor service — although the col- 
ored waiter who brought our breakfast told us that 
in his ' palmy ' days he had been butler to Senator 
Hale in Washington." 

After settling ourselves, we motored on to the 
Cafe Louisiane, through garish bright streets, and 
down a black alley where a single light was burning, 
under which a policeman came out, wiping his 
mouth. Here was prepared the famous " Ramos 
fizz," a sort of fizz with cream in it that was a nectar 
fit for the gods. In New Orleans the mixing of 
drinks is no common thing. The barkeeper, an 
artist in his profession, tells by the sound when the 
drink has been sufficiently shaken. 

The Cafe Louisiane is one of the noted old places 
of New Orleans, which has, however, kept up with 
the times by turning into a sort of cabaret with sup- 
per tables about. Saturday night is the gayest mo- 
ment, and it was quite amusing that evening, for a 
" masked woman " came in who had been seen about 
the city for several days and had caused great 
excitement. She had a police permit, so the mystery 
deepened. She proved to be an advertisement for 
a newspaper. 

Another time our friends took us down Bourbon 



ROUND THE GULF 55 

Street and stopped near the old " Absinthe House," 
which, as It was supposed to be closed on Sunday, we 
entered by the back door! It is one of the most 
picturesque houses In the world — there Is nothing 
more Interesting In Paris — with Its sanded floors 
and little tables and the curious people who fre- 
quent It. No wonder the mixture of absinthe Is 
so dangerous, for It makes you feel so well, yet 
you do not realize that you have taken anything 
at all. 

The restaurants of New Orleans are famous. 
One day at the " Spanish Fort," a playground with 
a pretty park around the ruins of an old fortifica- 
tion, we took luncheon at a delightful little restau- 
rant with a terrace. On the sideboard were all sorts 
of tempting vegetables in array, and out beyond was 
Lake Pontchartraln. They served us, first of all, a 
Sazerac cocktail — again a work of art and not a 
drink — then shrimp boiled with some sort of sauce 
to give them a wonderful tang. And after that a 
marvelous stew of soft-shelled turtle, too good for 
words! (Terrapin here were thirty dollars a dozen 
for full-sized ones, but they considered terrapin 
rather coarse.) 

One of our pleasantest memories of New Orleans 
restaurants Is of dejeuner at the Cafe Galatoire, a 
delightful little place with " Madame " behind her 
" comptoir," reading the paper and doling out the 



56 ODD CORNERS 

extra things that were ordered, French spoken about 
us, and so many delicious things to eat. 

Of course the great event of the year in New 
Orleans is the Carnival, which I had seen a few years 
before but describe here. The papers are full of it 
for days, and promises of all sorts of prodigalities 
are made. The city decorates, and there is an ex- 
pectant look about things. The organizations that 
take part are composed of the very best element in 
the social life there, and the balls of Momus and 
Comus are very particular affairs. King Rex, how- 
ever, is rather representative of the people. The 
memberships are supposed to be secret — even the 
wives do not recognize their husbands on the floats 
or at the balls. 

The Carnival opens with the parade and ball of 
Momus. The parade was an enchanting torchlight 
procession — floats were drawn by horses and mules, 
accompanied by men with bright torches. When we 
saw it, Spenser's " Visions of the World's Vanities " 
had been chosen as subject, and the cars were really 
splendid, with the members of the organization in 
brilliant costumes riding on them, and waving and 
bowing and acting their parts. 

Later in the evening we went to King Momus's 
ball in the Opera House. A platform had been car- 
ried out over part of the seats, making a huge stage. 



ROUND THE GULF 57 

When the curtain rose, we saw a masked king upon 
his throne and courtiers In masks standing about. 
Then the King gave a member of his court a 
patent of nobihty naming his Queen. The man 
advanced slowly down the stage toward the " anx- 
ious " ones — girls who had received cards advising 
them that they were to be called out by a masker 
— ^from among whom the Queen was to be chosen. 
Her Majesty was then escorted In procession up on 
the stage, and a mantle of royal state was fastened 
to her shoulders. After this four heralds advanced 
in turn for her ladies-in-waiting, who were taken to 
their places about the throne and also given robes. 
Then, amid cheering and clapping, the maskers all 
defiled before the King, bowing right and left 
Finally, the courtiers took out ladies from the audi- 
ence to dance, giving them beautiful presents. 

The morning of MardI Gras came the procession 
of King Rex, composed of surprisingly fine floats 
representing the " Realm of the Imagination " — 
floats good enough to stand the light of day. Canal 
Street was a wonderful sight, with its Immense 
throngs and many merry maskers. Late in the 
afternoon came a second magnificent procession — 
a pageant of the " Epic of Ixdubar." This was the 
parade of Comus, the very finest of all, with many 
torchlights. 

King Comus's ball was the climax of the Carnival. 



58 ODD CORNERS 

King Rex and King Comus both have theirs on 
Tuesday night. Comus's ball is carried out almost 
exactly like that of Momus, except that the Queen 
and the maids have been chosen before and sit in a 
box until Her Majesty joins the King on his throne. 
The Carnival season is a merry time for all, and we 
were sorry when it was over. 

In our explorations of the city we saw many fine 
residences — big, Southern-looking houses with wide 
verandas and handsome ironwork. They stand 
back in their " yards," as the people call their gar- 
dens, beneath towering magnolias and live oaks, 
surrounded by roses and violets and jonquils in 
bloom — in February ! The air was delicious at that 
season with the perfume of the flowers and some- 
thing of that feeling of Spring one has in Rome. 

There are excellent roads leading out of the city, 
along canals which are higher than the rich truck 
lands that are being developed about them. On one 
of these roads is the cemetery, which is most peculiar 
— a city of the dead, with little buildings of all sorts 
of architecture. It contains some handsome monu- 
ments, and there is no appearance of loneliness about 
it. On account of the rise and fall of the river 
people are not buried in the earth, but above ground, 
for every family has a tomb. 

New Orleans is really a unique place, and It has 
great charm; even its down-at-the-heel parts have 




a: 
< 



ROUND THE GULF 59 

" atmosphere " — and how few American cities have 
such a thing. It is very foreign in its appearance 
and in the spirit of the people, who enjoy themselves 
as Latins do, and Sunday is a holiday, for pleasure 
and gayety. People are out in the parks and res- 
taurants, and the streets are always crowded on 
^that day. 

Some old-fashioned things are to be found in the 
pawnshops, which, as well as the restaurants, are 
characteristic of the city. We got an old print of 
the battle of New Orleans, which occurred January 
8, 18 15, and the sword of the pirate Lafitte, to 
whom, by the way, it is said Jackson's victory was 
largely due. 

The Lafitte brothers owned a blacksmith shop on 
the corner of Bourbon and St. Philippe streets. The 
pirates and buccaneers who, after the traffic had been 
prohibited in America, still plied their villainous 
trade in slaves, always went to the Lafitte brothers' 
shop for the chains. The Lafittes became the agents 
of the pirates in New Orleans, and finally, while one 
brother remained in that city, Jean Lafitte estab- 
lished a base at Barataria. He eventually formed 
the pirates into a clan, of which he was chief, and 
ruled with despotic sway. As many as a thousand 
slaves were sold at Barataria in a single day through 
his agency. Congress at last proclaimed him an 
outlaw and a pirate. 



6o ODD CORNERS 

War was declared on Great Britain in June, 1812, 
and in 18 14 the British fitted out an expedition to 
attack Louisiana and take New Orleans. Great 
offers were made Lafitte by the British commander, 
to serve as guide for the ships through the secret 
waterways surrounding the city, and if he had con- 
sented, it would have been captured without very 
much resistance. 

But pirate though he was, Jean Lafitte refused the 
bribe, and immediately offered his sword to General 
Andrew Jackson, who was to defend that part of 
the country. His services were refused, and he was 
told that he would be hung if Jackson got sight of 
him. Lafitte, however, offered his men and guns a 
second time, and was accepted, for Jackson saw, 
when he arrived in New Orleans, what small means 
were at his disposal and that the outlaw could bring 
him trained men who were reckless, cool, and used 
to fighting. Lafitte set up his own cannon, which had 
to be brought from his ships — a tremendous under- 
taking — and with this help Jackson won the battle of 
New Orleans. 

The Lafittes were pardoned by act of Congress, 
and they disbanded their clan, the pirates becoming 
peaceful fishermen and planters, who settled on the 
shores of Barataria, where their descendants remain 
to this day. 



ROUND THE GULF 6i 

On the levees we watched negroes running back 
and forth by thousands, unpacking bales of cotton 
and bags of cotton seed brought down the river on 
steamers. Here again wartime memories were 
awakened, this time of the Civil War. We Inquired 
of a policeman where the Memphis Packet Landing 
was, where my father and Captain Bailey landed 
from the Cayuga to demand the surrender of New 
Orleans. The river bank has changed a little since 
then, having been filled in for about one hundred 
yards, and a small, drab-colored house stands on the 
wharf. We walked up Lafayette Street to the City 
Hall, the same way that my father went amid a howl- 
ing mob. George W. Cable writes of the incident: 

" What a gathering! The riffraff of the wharves, 
the town, the gutters. Such women — such wrecks of 
women! And all the juvenile rag-tag. . . . The 
crowd on the levee howled and screamed with rage. 
The swarming decks answered never a word; but 
one old tar on the Hartford, standing with lanyard 
in hand beside a great pivot-gun, so plain to view 
that you could see him smile, silently patted its big 
black breech and blandly grinned. 

" And now the rain came down in sheets. About 
one or two o'clock in the afternoon (as I remem- 
ber), I being again in the store with but one door 
ajar, there came a roar of shoutings and impre- 
cations and crowding feet came down Common 



62 ODD CORNERS 

Street. ' Hurrah for Jeff Davis ! Hurrah for Jeff 
Davis ! Shoot them ! Kill them ! Hang them ! ' I 
locked the door on the outside and ran to the front 
of the mob, calling with the rest, ' Hurrah for Jeff 
Davis I ' About every third man had a weapon out. 
Two officers of the United States Xav^ were walking 
abreast, unguarded and alone, looking not to right 
or left, never frowning, never flinching, while the 
mob screamed in their ears, shook cocked pistols 
in their faces, cursed and crowded, and gnashed 
upon them. So through the gates of death those two 
men walked to the City Hall to demand the town's 
surrender. It was one of the bravest deeds I ever 
saw done." 

I had long wished to go down the Mississippi in 
order to trace the course that my father followed 
when, in '62, in the little Cayuga, he led Farragut's 
fleet past the forts to Xew Orleans. As we had 
decided to go to Panama, my wish was at last to be 
gratified. The river at Xew Orleans is wide and 
impressive with its swift flow of turbid brown 
waters, and there were many ships along the line of 
huge, covered wharf sheds. i\miOng them was the 
Cartago of the United Fruit Company, which was 
loading for the Isthmus, and on her we embarked. 

She was a fine ship of some five thousand tons, 
and proved steady and clean, with all the passenger 
reservations amidships, and our delightful, roomy 



ROUND THE GULF 63 

cabins, with pretty chintz hangings, were on an upper 
deck. The officers of the boat were Scotch or Eng- 
lish, and the stewards West India negroes, well- 
mannered and soft-spoken. 

The steamer ran all afternoon down the river; it 
is some seven hours to the jetties going downstream, 
but it is almost twice as long a trip upstream against 
the current. The river flows higher than the flat 
land stretching away behind it, and it is strange to 
look out over the country and see the house-roofs 
on a level with the river flood. A few fine planta- 
tion houses are seen and some truck farming, several 
factories, and many tumble-down houses on or near 
the levees. 

But to us the interesting sight was passing the 
'^ forts," Fort Jackson and Fort St. Philip. Fort 
Jackson is still very much in evidence — its brick forti- 
fication zigzagging almost on a level with the river 
in a long swamp, and the flag flying above it. On 
the other side of the sharp bend in the river are a 
few grass ramparts with guns, the remains of the 
original defenses of Fort St. Philip, and there are 
quarters, evidently for some troops. 

To go back to the Civil War, Farragut had 
assembled seventeen vessels of his fleet above the 
bars near the mouth of the Mississippi. The Colo- 
rado, one of the largest, could not be pulled through 
the mud and had to be left behind. Captain Bailey 



64 ODD CORNERS 

of this ship, who was second In command to the 
Admiral, accordingly transferred his flag to the gun- 
boat Cayuga, on which my father was navigating 
officer. The Cayuga's official report reads: 

"At 2 A. M., on the morning of the 24th [July, 
1862], the signal to advance was thrown out from 
the flagship. The Cayuga immediately weighed 
anchor and led on the column. We were discovered 
at the boom, and at a little beyond both forts opened 
fire. When close up with St. Philip we opened with 
grape and canister, still steering on. After passing 
this line of fire, we encountered the Montgomery 
flotilla, consisting of eighteen gunboats, including 
the ram Manassas and iron battery Louisiana of 
twenty guns. 

" This was a moment of anxiety, as no supporting 
ship was In sight. By skillful steering, however, 
we avoided their attempts to butt and board, and had 
succeeded In forcing the surrender of three, when 
the Varuna, Captain Boggs, and Oneida, Captain 
Lee, were discovered near at hand. 

" At early dawn we discovered a rebel camp at 
the right bank of the river. This proved to be the 
Chalmette regiment." 

The fortunes of this regiment are thus described 
by Lieutenant Perkins : " As we were very close in, 
I shouted to them to come on board and deliver up 
their arms, or we should blow them all to pieces. It 



ROUND THE GULF 6^ 

seemed rather odd for a regiment on shore to be 
surrendering to a ship. They hauled down their 
colors, and the colonel and command came on board 
and gave themselves up as prisoners of war. . . . 
The officers we released on parole and allowed 
them to retain their side-arms, all except one captain, 
who I discovered was from New Hampshire. . . . 
I took his sword away from him and have kept it."* 
As L. and I steamed down the Mississippi, visions 
of the battles came before my eyes, so I hope I may 
be pardoned for again breaking into verse: 

'Twas past the forts, at dead of night, 
Upon the turret, without light. 
He led the fleet o'er bar, by dyke, 
On the swirling, muddy river. 

Fort Jackson roared and flashed with shell, 
St. Philip blazed away like hell, 
And firerafts a tale could tell, 
On the swirling, muddy river. 

They took three boats and cut the chain, 
The bullets flew like pelting rain. 
And bodies floated white with pain 
In the swirling, muddy river. 

And when they reached the town a gang 
Jeered wildly, hooted, spit and sang, 
" Let's shoot them, kill them, let them hang! " 
Near the swirling, muddy river. 

Bailey and Perkins up the street 
Marched calmly, knowing no defeat, 
To ask surrender to the fleet 
On the swirling, muddy river. 

* Lieutenant Perkins was from New Hampshire. 



66 ODD CORNERS 

Our steamer had arrived at the mouth of the 
Mississippi, but as another boat had gone aground 
in the pass our Captain did not want to attempt to 
take us out in the dark, and we delayed there till 
daylight. At dawn we looked out to see the delta 
and the famous jetties. The steamer at last entered 
a wide, canal-like passage that ran straight for miles, 
containing the channel. On each side was a narrow 
strip of almost flooded land, and there were little 
shanties on piles that seemed to be floating. In the 
stretches of swamp behind we heard flights and calls 
of game birds, for this Is a fine place for shooting. 
But the narrow necks of land at last stretched out 
alone into the gulf, where we soon dropped the pilot 
and headed for the Isthmus. 




CHAPTER III 

ACROSS THE ZONE 

"It's the old, old road and the old, old quest 

Of the cut-throat sons of Cain, 
South by west and a quarter west, 

And hey for the Spanish Main." * 

UR course was over the great Spanish 
Main, which could tell us tales hard to 
picture to ourselves in these modern 
days. Leaving behind Cape San An- 
tonio, on the western end of Cuba, opposite Yucatan, 
we passed Into the Caribbean Sea. 

The stories of the early explorers were thrilling. 
Columbus, after his stop at San Domingo on his 
fourth voyage, sailed over to the Isthmus. Balboa 
crossed the Isthmus, where the canal is now, in 15 13, 
and discovered the Pacific Ocean. Magellan, too, 
searched in these parts for a western passage. Of 
the other Spanish explorers, Davalos and Ponce de 
Leon went as far north as St. Augustine, Florida. 
It was with real delight that I read of Drake, Mor- 

* Masefield. 
67 



68 ODD CORNERS 

gan and Kidd, of galleons, privateers and treasure 
ships. 

Although the Spaniards looked upon the New 
World as their possession by virtue of the Pope's 
decree dividing all the newly discovered lands be- 
tween Spain and Portugal, many French, English 
and Dutch ships defied the Spanish law and ventured 
to trade with the smaller settlements that were not 
garrisoned. By degrees the French buccaneers got 
possession of Tortuga, while the English made 
Jamaica their headquarters. In time of war French 
and English governors commissioned them as pri- 
vateers, and thus a sort of governmental sanction 
was lent to them. 

Masefield has caught the spirit of the buccaneers 
in these dashing lines : 

" I'm going to be a pirate with a bright brass pivot gun, 
And an island in the Spanish Main beyond the setting sun, 
And a silver flagon full of red wine to drink when work is done, 
Like a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buccaneer. 

'* V^ith a spy-glass tucked beneath my arm and a cocked hat 

cocked askew, 
And a long, low, rakish schooner a-cutting of the waves in two, 
And a flag of skull and cross-bones the wickedest that ever flew, 

Like a fine old salt-sea scavenger, like a tarry Buccaneer." 

Sir Francis Drake, greatest of the English cap- 
tains, who perhaps had more than a dash of the 
pirate in him, came to his death in these waters, and 



ACROSS THE ZONE 69 

the famous Dampier, who sailed three times round 
the world in the seventeenth century, is associated 
with the Spanish Main. But Morgan is the best 
known, for among his exploits he sacked Old Pana- 
ma, and was rewarded with the rank of Admiral in 
the Brit'ish navy and also with the office of deputy 
governor of Jamaica. 

There are five countries that are commonly 
described as '^ on the Isthmus." Close to the nar- 
row strip that actually joins the two continents are 
Colombia on the south and " happy Costa Rica " on 
the north. Costa Rica has been prosperous and 
peaceful until very lately, when they had a bloodless 
revolution. Its capital, San Jose, contains some very 
handsome buildings. Honduras is supposed to be 
the most out at heels, but has the distinction of hav- 
ing an honest president, by the name of Davila. 
Salvador is the only one of the Central American 
States that borders on the Pacific alone, not extend- 
ing across to the Caribbean Sea. This densely pop- 
ulated republic has some fine mountain scenery, and 
has lately experienced a severe earthquake. Guate- 
mala Is the oldest of these countries and at one time 
reached a high stage of civilization, but now shares 
with Nicaragua the reputation of being the most 
troublesome. 

It was our good fortune to have a narrow escape 
from a violent hurricane. A few months before, a 



70 ODD CORNERS 

steamer of this line had gone down in a storm, and 
not a soul or a vestige of the ship had ever been seen 
again. But as we approached Swan Island the wind 
died out and that night the sky was ablaze with stars 
and the Southern Cross was above the horizon — 
always a disappointment, however, for it is a poor 
galaxy and little suggests a cross. This island is a 
bit of American coral named for an old freebooter, 
where the United Fruit Company provides a wire- 
less station and a lighthouse, as it does on many 
other dangerous points on this coast, where govern- 
ments refuse to do their duty. It was pleasant to 
reflect that this was the result of Boston enterprise. 
We moved slowly toward the light, for it was dark 
on the water, till we made out the dim outline of the 
little reef and saw the twinkling lanterns of small 
boats that came out to meet us and transfer food 
and fuel for the island. Only once every three 
weeks does a ship stop here to deliver stores 
and mail, yet the men on the lonely reef know 
everything that goes on in the world through their 
wireless. 

It is one hundred miles from New Orleans down 
the river to the Gulf of Mexico and fourteen hun- 
dred to the Isthmus of Panama. It was something 
of a revelation to appreciate where the Canal Zone, 
which is a strip across the Isthmus, is situated in 
relation to other places. The canal runs northwest 



ACROSS THE ZONE 71 

and southeast, and, strangely enough, its Pacific end 
is farther east than the Atlantic end. 

The light outside the Caribbean border of " the 
Zone '* was at last sighted, and a torrential tropical 
storm came up to make us realize that the steamer 
was nearing land. She slowed down for a while, 
but soon passed in behind the great breakwater 
that encloses the harbor entrance. The rows of 
lights twinkling along the shore made one feel it 
must be a second New York rather than Colon- 
Cristobal. Colon is the old Panamanian town, which 
is gradually losing its grip, while Cristobal is the 
American town, where the new docks and terminals 
and ojffices are being built. 

With the rising sun the doctor appeared and 
made a strict examination of all the passengers, for 
that is the only way to keep the Zone free from 
scourge. He vaccinated almost everyone on board. 

The pilot took our boat in to the wrong side of 
the dock, so that she had to back out and come in 
again, but at last she tied up and we were able to 
telephone to General Edwards, whose guests we 
were to be. We learned that his " trolley " was on 
the way over for us, and in the meantime resolved 
to see the sleepy, sad little town of Colon. I say sad 
because most of it was burned down the year before. 

It was picturesque, however, with its motley 
crowds of people, its porticoed houses and small 



72 ODD CORNERS 

shops, its plazas full of foliage and flowers, rather 
scraggly but glowing with color. Such a mixture 
of costumes as we saw! There were East Indians 
with embroidered caps and turbans, and Chinese 
and, queerest of all, the San Bias Indians, who 
were very amusing in baby derby hats. Years ago 
an enterprising American sold this kind to them, 
and now they will use nothing else. They marry 
only with their own tribe, and they will not let a 
white man pass a night in their village. The women 
wear nose rings and bead anklets, which are put on 
them in childhood and deform the legs as they grow 
larger. America really needs, and should arrange 
to acquire, their land in order to protect the eastern 
end of the canal. We stopped at the post office. 
Not a soul was there to sell stamps, and we decided 
our letters might never get off, so took them over to 
be mailed In the Washington Hotel — quite the best 
in these parts — In the American town. The hotel 
was built In Spanish style, with terrace and balus- 
trade facing the ocean, and a big tank by the sea 
wall for bathing. 

General Edwards, then commanding on the 
Isthmus, sent his aide, a handsome young officer, to 
meet us In his private track motor. This was General 
Edwards's own conveyance, really a miniature rail- 
way car, which traveled over the track in the guise of 
a special train. The chauffeur was an orderly ser- 



ACROSS THE ZONE 73 

geant; it appeared that the labor unions had consid- 
ered the position of such importance that they had 
protested to the President that a soldier ought not to 
interfere with the possible work of one of their mem- 
bers! We started off in this little car, backing and 
filling through the traffic in the town, and so began 
a strange trip by the marvelous and much-talked-of 
canal across the Isthmus. 

Traveling in this curious motor was rather excit- 
ing, as the car did not run very well and the gasoline 
gave out, and we had to flag real trains and side- 
track — for there was tremendous traffic on the Pana- 
ma Railroad, especially at that time, when the canal 
was closed by the great slide. We ran out into the 
country and jungle, over the fifty miles, past the 
great Gatun Locks, along the flooded lakeside, 
where villages and the wide valley were submerged 
by the waters of the dam and spillway at Gatun, past 
the Pedro Miguel Locks and the Miraflores and the 
Pacific approach, to Balboa, Ancon and Panama, 
the three communities at the Pacific end of the 
Zone. 

The railway followed the canal part of the way, 
and part of the way wandered off through the jungle 
between the mountains, where there were fine bits 
of forest, and beautiful trees whose tops were all 
a mass of blue blossoms, and caiba and ylang-ylang, 
like flame trees, ablaze with yellow and red. Tangles 



74 ODD CORNERS 

of rank undergrowth darkened the ravines that lead 
up between the ridges, and there were orchids in pro- 
fusion hanging from the trees, and huge-leaved 
plants and trailing foliage and vines. Further back 
in the forest there were monkeys and paroquets, and 
in the stream many alligators. Where the railway 
ran it was of course cleared, and there appeared 
scarcely any scars of the work of a few years ago. 

The motor whizzed by villages in which canal 
workmen lived — '' gold and silver workmoln,'* as 
they are called. The '* gold " are the white men, 
who get high wages, the " silver " are the blacks. 
All these villages have been built by the Americans. 
Most of the houses are on stilts — on account of the 
rainy season and the tropical insects and snakes — 
and most have broad, screened piazzas surrounding 
them completely, so that no glass is needed in the 
windows. Some of the houses were made from old 
freight cars and decorated with orchids. For pets 
the people had black and white monkeys, small deer 
and parrots. 

At last we reached Balboa and here took a real 
motor to the General's house on the ridge, halfway 
up high Ancon hill, where it commanded magnificent 
views. It had wide windows and verandas and cool 
rooms with fine baths, and we were made very com- 
fortable. The servants were a black cook from 
Jamaica, who was very good, although she smoked 




< 
o 

09 

< 

pa 



ACROSS THE ZONE 75 

cigarettes all the time she was cooking, a chamber- 
maid from Martinique, and a butler, who was a well 
trained Panamanian. The place was clean, and I 
never saw a mosquito all the time I was there. I 
had a visit from a spider, a water bug and a firefly 
In my bedroom, but that was all, though I heard that 
a boa constrictor had been found under the house a 
few months before. Big lizards, however, crept 
round the gardens, for they especially like to eat the 
flower buds. 

The cool, airy veranda was screened, so that the 
bright tropical sunlight was modified, and far below 
it extended one of the most interesting views In the 
world. We looked up the valley to the MIraflores 
Locks of the canal and the lake which they retain. 
On the other side was the bay, which makes in from 
the Pacific Ocean. The bay is broken by the high 
steep Islands that cover the entrance to the canal. 
Off toward the sea was Fort Grant with Its rows 
of red-roofed quarters, while busy wharves and rail- 
ways stretched away in every direction. Far below 
us were the workshops and the marvelous new dry- 
dock. 

Ancon, which was started by the French, is a 
veritable hanging garden creeping up the slope, its 
perfect roads winding zigzag up the sides of the 
mountain, with rows of tall palms along terraces and 
richly foliaged hedges of croton and hibiscus. There 



76 ODD CORNERS 

are great shading trees — the mango, the rain tree, 
and the poinciana all aglow with red flowers — and 
the verandaed houses are smothered under masses 
of bougainvillea in different glorious shades, poin- 
settia and the pink " chain of love." In these lovely 
surroundings are the detached cottages of the hos- 
pital and the home of the governor. 

Beyond Ancon, on the other side, toward the sea, 
is Panama " City," the Panamanian town which still 
remains to Panama, and which is a typical Central 
American city in flavor and appearance — except that 
it is cleaner and more wholesome. Here we had the 
unique experience of being able to visit, just by 
crossing a street — for Ancon and Panama join — 
a Central American city, a hotbed of sedition and 
revolution and dramatic incident, and yet were able 
to leave it by crossing back over the street into a 
well-governed American community — much better 
governed than communities at home. 

An afternoon was spent in Panama City, wander- 
ing about its picturesque streets with their over- 
hanging balconies hung with awnings and gay with 
flowers. Indians and Panamanians were living their 
lives out in the open, the women walking along with 
that splendid swing that comes from carrying loads 
on their heads, and sefioritas smiling or demure, and 
lazy, ogling men, in front of the cafes. There are 
more mixed colors there than can be Imagined — 



ACROSS THE ZONE 77 

blacks, browns, and yellows, too, for there are many 
Chinese — hardly a really white family. We looked 
into rooms that were half bedroom, half shop. 
Again we went by plazas full of flowering trees, and 
strolled down by the sea, where terraces led along 
and boats were drawn up below on the rocks; past 
the President's house, with Its guard of honor of 
loafing soldiers, and past the Opera House, an ambi- 
tious building all streaked with tropical rain and 
heat, to the parapet of the old fort which juts out 
Into the sea. Here more armed soldiers sat about 
and spat about. The cathedral and several churches 
were Interesting outside from their rich baroque 
f agades, but Inside their altars were covered with 
Lenten veils. 

When the people revolted against Mother Spain 
and the Spaniards were driven out years ago, some 
of the slaves became generals and bandit rulers. 
Revolutions still take place every four years at elec- 
tion time. The President in office when we were 
there was not a particularly good one. A Dr. 
Cherry, who was supported by the better class ot 
the people, was running to succeed him. He was 
not elected, however. Everybody of any promi- 
nence here seems to be a doctor of sorts. 

Panama was originally a part of Colombia. This 
northern bit revolted and seceded during Roosevelt's 
administration, and was sustained by the United 



78 ODD CORNERS 

States Government. Some people go so far as to 
say that the United States practically seized the 
Canal Zone, but our Government offered to pay a 
large sum to Colombia, which sum that state is still 
haggling over. At one time Colombia boasted of 
her professors and poets; today she is going to 
pieces. There are even many lepers at large, one 
town in particular being filled with them — a town 
from which guava paste is shipped all over the 
world. What a pleasant thought! 

Next to the canal itself the most interesting part 
of the Isthmus was the ruins of Old Panama, six or 
eight miles south of the present city. This Panama 
of the Conquistadores, the oldest European settle- 
ment on the western coast of America, dates from 
15 19. Here the treasures of Peru and the Philip- 
pines were landed, to be carried across the Isthmus 
by the Royal Way to Porto Bello on the other side 
and thence in galleons to Spain. It was more im- 
portant than any other Spanish settlement in Amer- 
ica except Cartagena. 

Old Panama was on the shore of the Pacific, 
looking toward that El Dorado of the Spaniards, the 
empire of Peru. *' Its situation on that beautiful 
blue bay, with the Andes snowy in the distance, and 
the islands, like great green gems, to seaward, is 
lovely beyond words.'' The site was not selected 
for its beauty, however, but for the practical con- 



ACROSS THE ZONE 79 

sideration that on account of the mussel beds nearby 
the settlers would be in no danger of starvation. It 
took the name of Panama, meaning " the place 
where many fish are found," from an Indian village 
on the same spot. 

Here on the borders of the New World was a bit 
of old Spain that was described by writers of the 
time as the peer of Venice. It probably had a popu- 
lation of about thirty thousand, and was " the 
greatest mart for gold and silver in the whole world. 
. . . There were pearl fisheries up and down the 
bay, yielding the finest of pearls." The merchants 
who amassed fortunes here built fine houses of stone 
in Moorish style or richly carved dwellings of native 
cedar, in which were paintings by Spanish masters 
and all the luxuries of Europe and the Orient. They 
erected convents and monasteries and a beautiful 
cathedral, whose tower is still a landmark to sailors. 
Nothing of all this is to be seen today but heaps of 
stones rising out of a tangle of tropical growth, the 
almost perfect shell of the cathedral tower, and the 
flat arch of the ruined church of Santo Domingo, 
which '' is one of the wonders of architecture, con- 
tinuing to stand in defiance of the laws of gravity 
and the trembling of earthquakes." 

All this wealth and magnificence were protected by 
sea and marshes on three sides, and on the fourth 
was a causeway, in which was the stone bridge still 



So ODD CORNERS 

standing. Thus surrounded by water, not antici- 
pating attack from the Pacific, and believing the dan- 
gers of the Isthmus would protect them from the 
pirates of the Main, the Spaniards thought them- 
selves safe. But in January, 1671, the redoubtable 
Henry Morgan, chief of the buccaneers, landed at 
the mouth of the Chagres River, took the Castle 
of San Lorenzo, and advanced across the Isthmus. 
Instead of strengthening their fortifications and 
awaiting the enemy behind stone walls, the Spaniards 
marched in procession to the cathedral, where masses 
were said for their success and gifts were laid upon 
the altar, and then took up their position on the plain 
outside the city. They numbered four hundred fine 
horsemen, twenty-four hundred footmen, and some 
Indians and negroes who were to drive two thousand 
wild bulls into the English ranks. 

Morgan's ragged, hungry band of over a thou- 
sand men were exhausted from the long march, on 
which they had been forced to eat even the leather 
bags found in a deserted Spanish camp. It is said 
that " few or none there were but wished themselves 
at home." But they fought desperately, picking off 
the horsemen and charging the foot till the Spaniards 
fled in utter rout. After a rest Morgan marched 
upon the town, silenced the batteries, and soon was 
in possession of Old Panama. 

While the pirates were reveling in the rich booty, 



ACROSS THE ZONE 8i 

It was discovered that the place was on fire, and In 
spite of all their efforts the great houses of the mer- 
chants disappeared in the flames; the warehouses, 
however, were saved. When Captain Morgan left 
the site of the city in February, " he carried with 
him one hundred and seventy-five beasts of carriage,r 
laden with silver, gold and other precious things, 
besides six hundred prisoners more or less, between 
men, women, children and slaves." The Incas were 
avenged! 

What a contrast! As we were looking at the 
ruins, along the trail road came a company of the 
Signal Corps of American soldiers, who were about 
to start in on maneuvers, with pack mules and equip- 
age and In campaign uniform, and they turned In 
under the old tower and began to make camp. It 
was strange and novel to find these most modern of 
troops settling themselves under the gray ruins of 
the sack of so long ago. A tropical storm came up 
and pelted down rain In sheets for a few moments, 
but neither men nor mules seemed to mind, and soon 
the sun was out again. 

We motored by some haciendas on the way out, 
and some native huts thatched with palm leaves, 
through a rolling country that was chiefly grazing 
land. The cattle looked better than any I have ever 
seen before In the tropics. 

One afternoon we took another drive over excel- 



82 ODD CORNERS 

lent roads to Pedro Miguel Locks — called by the 
soldiers " Peter Magill " — and had fine views of 
the interior mountains and of the canal. We met 
two battalions of the Tenth Infantry coming in from 
a long hike, fine-looking fellows, browned and swing- 
ing along freely in the heat. L. called out to ask 
if Colonel Devore was with them — they had been on 
General Davis's stali together during the Spanish 
War. The soldier who answered was of German 
birth ! There are too many of this kind among our 
troops. 

Germans had been seen about the Gatun Dam; 
some pretended they were fishermen, but in reality 
they were taking soundings. Then the Jamaican 
negroes, who are English subjects, were employed 
In great numbers not only on the canal but on the 
fortifications, so no doubt many nations have plans 
of the Zone. It was reassuring, In spite of this, to 
know that the great dam was guarded night and day 
by troops, for If this was blown up the flow of water 
might ruin the canal. 

We started to explore the defenses In the Pacific, 
on the small Islands at the mouth of the canal, taking 
the trolley and running along the railway, past the 
huge machinery plants and yards and docks of the 
canal administration. Here trains were shunting 
and smoke pouring out and men working like ants 
with great steam shovels and cranes and derricks. 



ACROSS THE ZONE 83 

All this was really more like the view of the canal 
as we had seen It depicted than was the canal 
itself. Then we ran past Fort Grant, along the 
viaduct that leads to the islands, which have come 
to be Immense ramifications of concrete that turn 
them into veritable armories. There are deep tun- 
nels that pierce through them and shafts that reach 
from bottom to top of them, and wide terraced 
places where disappearing guns are hidden and 
others where batteries of mortars gape in rows, and 
powerful searchlights are tucked away behind nat- 
ural obstructions, and paths and steps connect the 
different emplacements. 

Flamenco was first visited, where huge cannon 
and howitzers are set — but not half enough of them 
nor of ammunition! We passed into the bowels of 
the mountain and were lifted In an elevator to its 
top, where great guns were worked for us, and it was 
so hot we almost melted. It reminded L. of the 
time when he went over Corregldor Island at the 
entrance to Manila Bay with the Secretary of War. 
On the way back we stopped at the island of Naos 
to see the mine plant, and went by Perico Island and 
hurried back to the cool of the house on the hill. 
All these fortifications were very Interesting but 
rather complicated to the female mind. 

Yet these expensive and extensive defenses are of 
little account because of our half-baked way of doing 



84 ODD CORNERS 

things. It was stupid of our Government that when 
we treated for the Zone we asked only for the three 
small islands that are near the entrance to the canal 
and failed to require some larger ones a few miles 
farther out, although Panama would probably not 
sell them to another country. These outer islands 
are much higher, and the possession of them today 
absolutely dominates our insufficient defenses and 
the Pacifie entrance of the canal. A hostile fleet 
could lie off these islands out of range of our best 
cannon, and with their big new guns could do great 
damage. 

In every other way except in matters military 
there is an impression here of the most extravagant 
use of money. It seems to have been poured out 
lavishly by the Canal Commission, and there appears 
no limit to their doing whatever they wanted to do, 
yet the protection of this extravagant work is dis- 
regarded and the military defenses are skimped, so 
that this tempting morsel would probably be one of 
the first things that some foreign power could de- 
stroy or gobble up.* The authorities at that time 
refused a torpedo boat to help guard the entrances, 
although German boats were interned there from 
which surveying parties were landed as they pleased 
on any pretext. Worse still, if possible, there was 

* Very lately the Canal Zone has come entirely under the 
Military. 



ACROSS THE ZONE 85 

a German living near the Chagres River who openly 
owned quantities of dynamite which he said he used 
for '* fishing " ! Yet the military authorities here 
were not allowed to interfere ! 

What is more, good post grounds have been 
refused and appropriations for barracks denied. 
Most of the infantry are stationed today in God- 
forsaken places — in fact, places forsaken even by 
man, for the troops are compelled to make use of 
the deserted buildings which the laborers, originally, 
had inhabited and infested — back in the jungle, along 
the canal beyond Culebra, instead of in healthy loca- 
tions, which would also be more strategical, at the 
ends of the canal. These stations are on the wrong 
side of the canal, too, opposite the railroad and the 
communications with the towns of Panama and 
Colon, and there is only one bridge across, which is 
still, as far as I know, opened or kept shut at the 
whim of the canal authorities. Accordingly, the men 
hate their service in the Zone and seldom re-enlist, 
whereas if they were properly treated there is no 
question but the service there would be popular. 

Our officers have tried bravely to make the best 
of these disgraceful conditions, and have made over 
the insanitary houses and cut out parade grounds 
and fought back the jungle and planted flowers and 
shrubs till the posts look quite well. The Fifth, 
Tenth and Twenty-ninth Infantry were, when we 



86 ODD CORNERS 

were there, In these isolated camps, suffocatingly hot 
and almost intolerable, while so many salubrious 
hillsides are near the canal ends and the railroad 
communications, where the posts should be placed. 

As General Edwards and his house party were to 
dine with Colonel Morton of the Fifth, we had to 
cross the bridge to reach the camp at Empire, where 
we were met at the little station In the jungle by 
Colonel Morton and a mule ambulance to take us 
up through the post street to his quarters. By this 
time it was too dark to see well — for the tropic night 
falls as suddenly as comes the day — but what was 
seen looked well kept and neat, and the officers' 
quarters were quite delightful with wide-open porch 
and room arrangement in the attempt to keep cool. 

After a very nice dinner we were taken to a hop, 
where the girls had a pleasant time with the many 
officers in their white uniforms, who have so few 
relaxations that each regiment takes a turn at a Sat- 
urday night hop every week. 

Some stories were told us of queer people who 
used to live In these parts. Many years ago, one of 
the small Islands on the Pacific side was the refuge 
of a leper, for It Is only since the Americans came 
that any special place has been provided for such 
poor sufferers. On a rock where now is one of our 
big searchlights once lived a hermit who, when he 
died, left it to Queen Victoria. I also heard of an 







V 



C 
g 

c 
C 



ACROSS THE ZONE 87 

old Chinaman, who lived In the hills quite alone and 
never spoke, and had food only when It was brought 
to him. He was said to have murdered another 
Chinaman and to have been tried by his own people, 
who decreed that he should live upon the grave of 
his victim the rest of his life. 

Occasionally someone is lost In the woods. I was 
told of a white child who disappeared in this way; 
her footprints were found near a spring not far from 
the ocean, but that was all. They never knew — it 
might have been a crocodile, a boa constrictor, or a 
man that caused her disappearance. It Is said that, 
what with heat and thirst and the insects of the coun- 
try, a strong man could not live more than a few 
days at most if lost in the forest. 

After the torrential rain of the first day of our 
stay there was fine weather. Everything was as 
green as could be to our eyes, but they told us that 
with the coming of the rains the jungle could almost 
be seen to grow and bloom, and it became a struggle 
to keep back the tropical tangle from overrunning 
the barracks and compounds. 

One day L. had fine sport on a fishing trip with 
Colonel Snyder, the medical officer of the command- 
ing general's staff, who Is a veritable Izaak Walton. 
They were up long before sunrise and took break- 
fast at the Colonel's quarters across the road. His 
West Indian cook was quite a wonder and always 



88 ODD CORNERS 

wore a hat in the kitchen when doing her best. Gen- 
eral Edwards gave the fishermen his trolley, which 
was at the station in Balboa when they arrived with 
their paraphernalia. They started in the darkness 
before dawn, but as they scooted through the tropi- 
cal forest over the mountains and across the embank- 
ments by the lake, the sun came up suddenly and 
gloriously, popping up into the sky all glowing and 
hot at once, and the tropical day had begun. As the 
chauffeur-engine-driver had his car in fine condition, 
they sped along at a rate that kept them cool enough 
in the early morning, but when they had traveled the 
forty miles to Gatun the day was a scorcher. 

The Colonel and L. were joined by a hospital 
orderly who was a good deal of a fisherman and who 
had arranged to get bait and boats for them, and 
they walked in the great heat across the wide green 
ramp. Instead of going to the spillway where the 
overflow of the vast lake-reservoir falls into the 
Chagres River they followed a little trail to the right 
through the forest to a landing-place on the river, 
where they found a tiny camp with two dug-out 
canoes, such as are called cayucas, and some West 
India black men to paddle them. They had a small 
local fish, called snooks, ready for bait. They pad- 
dled up and down the reaches of the river, which 
wanders about some ten miles to empty into the 
Caribbean, past its banks of great arching tropical 



ACROSS THE ZONE 89 

trees full of fruits, where many birds and animals 
were hidden. The Chagres was at one time so 
unhealthy that it gave its name to a fatal 
fever. 

Tarpon fishing is often done from the spillway, 
for the fresh waters flowing swiftly over the dam 
seemed to have a peculiar attraction for the tarpon 
that come rolling up the river in great numbers. 
When the spillway is opened and the rush of water 
grows wilder, the fish come in almost a crazy scram- 
ble, and some have been caught by hand as they 
struggled up into too shallow water. 

It was the custom for the fishermen to wade in the 
swift and shallow spill and cast down as far as they 
could, and when they had struck a tarpon they 
played him to the shore. This mode is dangerous, 
for not long ago a man was dragged into the water 
and drowned. 

The Tarpon Club had been established, of which 
Colonel Snyder was president at the time, and an 
old house that had been obtained from the Govern- 
ment was being set up near the spill as headquarters. 
Here, in the Zone, we learned for the first time that 
tarpon was edible — in fact, it sold for ten cents a 
pound silver — and so all the fish that could be caught 
were landed and sold and not let go again as in fish- 
ing grounds in Florida. It is a shame that with the 
high cost of living so much discussed it seems im- 



90 ODD CORNERS 

possible to get people to overcome their prejudices 
about various fish, so many of them being consid- 
ered almost delicacies in other countries, which our 
people would refuse to touch even if they were starv- 
ing. Tuna, for instance, is eaten with great relish 
in some countries. 

The last day of our stay we had the great good 
luck to go through the famous canal on the trans- 
port Buford. After having been closed by the 
Culebra slide for so many months, it was opened 
again to traffic. There were not so many steamers 
waiting as one might have expected, only about ten 
in all. Among them were English, Norwegian and 
American ships. 

By the way, it was interesting to learn that, as 
soon as the early explorers discovered there was no 
channel across America to the Pacific, a canal was at 
once suggested, and in 1550 a book was published 
by a Portuguese to prove that a canal could be cut 
through either at Tehuantepec, Nicaragua, Panama 
or Darien. From that time to the twentieth century 
the project was never given up. 

When the French attempted to build the canal, 
they did not discover the spotted, yellow-legged lady 
mosquito which carries yellow fever, so that was one 
of their greatest difficulties. The Americans began 
by cleaning up the towns and having the army doc- 
tors make experiments, the result being that they 



ACROSS THE ZONE 91 

now know positively that the mosquito carries yellow 
fever. For the first experiments negroes gave them- 
selves for mosquito bait and were put in places sur- 
rounded by netting. When these enclosures were 
well filled with the insects the negroes came out and 
were watched, and the mosquitoes were examined 
and discovered to be of different kinds. To find out 
how far mosquitoes fly they were sprinkled with dif- 
ferent colors, and it was found that they seldom 
went more than four miles. In certain places barrels 
have been set, from which oil continually drips and 
floats on the water, thus in time killing the mosquito 
eggs, which are laid on the surface. It is impossible, 
however, to kill the eggs that are laid in the water 
cabbage. Someone suggested that hippopotami be 
introduced into this region, for they feed on the 
water cabbage, but this remedy is hardly necessary, 
for all the time we were in Panama we never saw 
a mosquito. Indeed, such great precautions are 
taken that the yellow-legged form has practically 
disappeared. 

We saw a model of this huge yellow-fever mos- 
quito, and were told that the insect must, in the first 
place, bite someone who has yellow fever during the 
first three days of the disease, and then must bite 
someone else after twelve days, otherwise the fever 
will not develop. Those who are bitten before 
twelve days have passed do not take the disease. 



92 ODD CORNERS 

and for this reason the doctors were long puzzled. 
The Americans are so strict in their sanitary regu- 
lations that I hardly think the fever will break out 
as long as they are on the Isthmus. Even chickens 
are not allowed to be kept in yards in the Canal 
Zone, for sanitary reasons, and the rats have all 
been killed. 

To go back to the canal, the original town of 
Gatun Is now deep down under the waters of the 
lake which has been formed back of the great dam 
and the locks, but there Is a new Gatun with bar- 
racks for troops and quarters for officers stringing 
out over the hill, and houses for the employees, so 
that it is quite a busy-looking place. At this point is 
the largest system of locks, and they form a noble 
construction, on so splendid a scale, handsome and 
Impressive with their vast terraces at different 
levels, huge, towering emergency gates and control 
houses. Yet so well proportioned are they all that 
the immensity of the whole design is not realized 
till a ship is seen In relation to it, most ships seeming 
miniature; and of course the locks are each of them 
large enough to take In the leviathan liners of today 
— though the interned steamers serve as transports 
on the Atlantic. The Gatun Dam is an Immense 
ridge whose surface Is now hidden by a dense growth 
of grass and tangle. The flooding of the dam and the 
formation of the vast lake behind it, that fits in so 



ACROSS THE ZONE 93 

beautifully among the mountains, have made the wide 
earth rampart seem a part of the panorama ; and the 
huge constructed portions of the canal itself and the 
locks, now the waters are in them, have become 
decorative architectural features in the landscape 
instead of the impressive but overwhelming '* works 
of man " which people used to travel so far to 
gaze at. 

The locks are of cement construction with iron 
gates, and in front of the gates are chains with red 
lights attached that go out when they reach the bot- 
tom. The water has a depth of only thirty-four feet 
in the locks, but in other parts of the canal as much 
as eighty feet or more. A lock is emptied in eight 
minutes. Everything moved like clockwork, and 
seemed rather different from the old wooden locks 
we go through In the Roxana. 

Gatun was quite gay when we arrived there, as 
there was a large number of officers and their fam- 
ilies who were to make the passage through the canal 
In the transport, for It was to many of them the first 
opportunity. Major Bradley, in command of the 
troops at Gatun, many of whom were drilling on the 
wide approaches to the lock and made a pretty sight, 
joined us, and with him we had the opportunity to 
go through the tunnels that lead down beneath the 
lock emplacements, to the working parts of the huge 
gates, which look so simple but are of great intricacy 



94 ODD CORNERS 

and power. All the entrances were guarded by 
military sentries. 

Then we visited a control tower, high up over the 
locks and basins, from which all the flows and re- 
flows are governed, for every sort of method has 
been arranged to save the waste of water in the 
opening and reopening of the basins for ships pass- 
ing either way. In this tower was a miniature work- 
ing model that showed at a glance what was going 
on through the whole length of the canal. This 
board was " fool-proof," as an oflicer remarked. If 
a mistake was made it simply did not work. Every- 
thing was done by signals and by turning electric 
handles, and the safety chains and gates and flows 
followed automatically. There were five men in all 
in the tower and an oflicer to oversee everything, 
and really two did the work. Remarkably few peo- 
ple, it struck me, for such a huge undertaking. 

We got on the Buford at the tower by the spill- 
way. The transport started at two o'clock; they 
told us the canal never was open except in the after- 
noon, but could be worked, if necessary, night and 
day. It seems to take about ten hours to go through 
the canal. The ships have to pass twelve gates, and 
it costs a dollar and twenty-five cents per ton to send 
one from ocean to ocean. 

There were a good many delays in our passage, 
and with all the money spent on the canal there are 



ACROSS THE ZONE 95 

some failures In fundamentals and there has been 
extravagance in details. Goethals did splendid work 
in organization, as Gorgas did in sanitation, but all 
give the credit to Stevens, the great engineer, for 
starting the work on the canal. Indeed, Goethals 
himself said that when he took hold all the real 
engineering had been done by Stevens before him. 
Goethals made one mistake In selling off the largest 
and most powerful dredges when the canal was first 
opened, so that when the Culebra slide occurred 
there were only smaller ones left to do the work. 

Of course special pilots take complete control of 
a ship passing through the canal. In the locks elec- 
tric locomotives that run alongside on the quays tow 
the vessel. As the Buford went through the locks 
the method of signaling these locomotives seemed 
most inadequate, and the pilot had to rush from side 
to side shouting to inattentive people and waving his 
arms In an equally unsatisfactory manner. When we 
passed out of the upper lock at Gatun Into the lake 
the ship was dragged by a current toward the spill- 
way, which had evidently been built too near the 
entrance to the locks, no doubt an error in construc- 
tion. We had to make a great circle before we could 
straighten out our course between the buoys across 
the lake. Not a very good beginning! 

Gatun Lake, as I have said, was artificially made. 
Although there was some valuable hard wood where 



96 ODD CORNERS 

the lake Is now, it was difficult to lumber, and as the 
Government could not sell it in a hurry, they let the 
water from the Chagres River in, and it Is gradually 
killing the trees, which you still see standing gray 
and ghostly, making a weird effect. The Chagres 
flows into the sea at Fort Lorenzo. This beautiful 
devil river is still a deadly spot, with its poisonous 
snakes and death-giving mosquitoes as well as sharks 
and man-eating alligators. 

For a time the sail was beautiful, as through an 
inland sea, with islands dotted about and points of 
land with white lighthouses topping through the 
jungle, round which we cruised, a panorama of 
mountains on all sides as a background. Other boats 
were before and behind us in procession, and at one 
place we tied up In a wide stretch, while boats passed 
by us from the other direction. 

After the lake Is crossed, the canal proper nar- 
rows and becomes a cutting through the lower hills 
till you come to the tremendous cleft through the 
highest part of the backbone range of the continent, 
called the Culebra Cut. 

The lowest point in the range really does not 
appear to have been chosen, by the way, and It 
seems now as if another survey might have found 
a more advantageous passage. Our engineers were 
unable to utilize very much of the French work — 
they could not use the small winding canal already 



ACROSS THE ZONE 97 

dug at the Atlantic end for about ten miles, but felt 
it wise to take advantage of the earlier work on the 
Culebra Cut because their own soundings in the 
vicinity did not seem to be any better. Engineers, 
however, disagreed somewhat on this point. 

The last geologist sent down by the Commission 
to investigate the cut explained to us that the layer 
of soft stone that is sliding into the canal had 
crumbled from the rains and the pressure, and had 
been driven up into the center of the canal. He 
added that this layer was nearly worn away, and 
there would be no more trouble to speak of in the 
future, but for a few years to come it would be 
wise to dredge constantly a little in order to keep 
the cut open. This is the only soft layer of rock 
of any size along the canal, which certainly seems 
encouraging. 

We moved along slowly and with great care, pass- 
ing by the dredges that were at work night and day, 
for it was calculated that for many months dredges 
would be compelled to be constantly at work in order 
to keep up with the continual flow and slide of earth 
from both sides at this point. There was a wonder- 
ful tropical sunset as the Buford steamed through 
the cut, and the glow and glory of the departing sun 
was reflected through the divide in the mountains, 
where the different earths and strata were rich In 
colors and effects; it was superb and impressive. 



98 ODD CORNERS 

The canal certainly is one of the wonders of the 
world. When the Eads jetties were built at the 
mouth of the Mississippi River they were considered 
very remarkable; the Columbia jetties and the dam 
at Boise City, Idaho, and the Flagler Railway to Key 
West are even more so, but the canal surpasses them 
all. It was after dark when we reached the Pedro 
Miguel locks, and all the rows of lights that illumi- 
nated their passages were as gay as Broadway. 
Here we tied up again, so that the large company 
could disembark, for Buford with her cargo was 
bound out direct to Honolulu and the Philippines. 
The moon came up and joined the opalescent waters, 
and we said good-by to the army people on board. 
It was a long walk from the huge lockways to the 
roads, where automobiles were waiting for us. We 
motored up the hill to the General's house, and 
blinked our lights to Captain Stevenson, who an- 
swered with his whistles, while we watched the lights 
of the Buford glide into the night as she sailed 
away across the Pacific. 

Our interesting visit with our kind friends. Gen- 
eral and Mrs. Edwards, had come to an end, and 
we steamed away on the Cartago, homeward bound. 
The passenger list on the return trip was larger than 
when we went out, some Central Americans and 
canal employees being added. Not only the holds 



ACROSS THE ZONE 99 

but also the decks were freighted with thousands 
upon thousands of bunches of bananas. The nights 
were perfect with the flooding moonlight across the 
Caribbean. In the Straits of Yucatan we felt the 
first cool winds. To be sure, the nights had all been 
comfortable in Panama, but this first cool air seemed 
to mean that we were again in temperate regions. 
At last the low-lying mouth of the Mississippi was 
sighted, with its lighthouse and the terminal jetty 
buildings that looked afloat on the waters. Up the 
narrow canal-way to Pilottown we went, and were 
examined at quarantine in rather an amusing man- 
ner, everybody standing in a long line with thermom- 
eters sticking out of their mouths and looking most 
self-conscious and rather absurd. The Cartago 
docked once more at the great wharf sheds on the 
riverfront of New Orleans. 



CHAPTER IV 



CAMPING IN CANADA 




JOURNEY on horseback in Canada was 
quite a contrast to our wanderings by 
boat and motor in the tropics. Ever 
since a camping trip in the Maine woods 
in canoes, the idea of roughing it in the North- 
west had had a great appeal for me. Banff, 
where we left the train, is a scattered little town 
with a general store, some sanatoriums, and sev- 
eral hotels. It was fun to watch the tourists that 
swarmed about the place as the great trains from 
East and West came rolling in, but we could 
not spend too much time in that way for there 
were various things to be seen to before leaving 
for a trip through the forests among the great 
mountains. 

The hotel piazza was occupied by old ladies who 
rocked back and forth and gossiped amiably about 
their fellow guests. During the half hour which our 
party had to wait for the horses to be brought up 
their eyes were glued upon our every movement. 
Parties often started for the woods and there was 

TOO 



CAMPING IN CANADA loi 

no novelty in that. We were the largest one that 
had ever set out from Banff, but that was not the 
reason for their flattering attention. No, Indeed — 
it was because two of the girls were clad, not In the 
divided skirts and shirtwaists commonly worn when 
riding astride, but in high boots and breeches, smart 
whipcord coats to their knees, bright-colored ban- 
dana handkerchiefs about their necks and sombrero 
hats surmounting all! Such a costume was far less 
common then than now. 

We were glad enough when Potts, the guide, 
finally appeared, leading several cayuses. He was 
a nice-looking chap, slight but very strong, and a 
great worker. In no time he had loaded our rods 
and guns and cameras and leather bags on the high- 
pommeled Mexican saddles. After the last things 
had been securely fastened on Sandy, the buckskin, 
and Flying Fox, the wild piebald pony, we mounted 
and were off for the heart of the Rockies. 

Moy, the Chinese cook, SIbbald, supposed to be 
the best broncho buster in this part of the country, 
Mac, the pack horse man, and Hank, the collie dog, 
with twenty-odd horses, had started out the night 
before and were, all supposed, well in advance. But 
we had gone only seven miles when, to our amaze- 
ment, men and horses were seen waiting for us by 
a river. There was, it seemed, some difficulty with 
the bridge. 



102 ODD CORNERS 

Six pack horses got over all right. SIbbald, lead- 
ing his pony, which he said was his pet cayuse, had 
no sooner started, however, than the broncho slipped 
and fell into a hole in the bridge. In struggling to 
get out, he broke his leg, and had to be killed. 

Black Hawk, one of the pack animals, tried to 
swim across of his own accord, and Potts jumped 
onto his horse and rode into the river after him. 
Black Hawk came up all right, and swam ashore, 
but Potts and Soda Biscuit disappeared from sight 
in the whirling rapids. Pretty soon the pony came 
up with Potts hanging on for dear life. They finally 
reached the opposite shore in safety, greatly to our 
relief. 

Of course it was out of the question to swim the 
other horses over, so the bridge had to be repaired. 
Sibbald said: "No wonder we had bad luck! 
Twenty-three horses — skiddoo! And a Friday!^' 
He went back to Banff to get another cayuse, and 
we traveled on. 

It was a rough trail, through a spruce forest and 
burnt timber. The next thing to happen was the 
fall of a huge dead tree across the path, almost hit- 
ting a pack horse, which caused more excitement. 
Camp was made about four that afternoon, in a 
valley surrounded by high mountains, with a good 
feeding place for the bronchos and a creek not 
far off. 




^'^■^:i'-:c^i^:^ 



Our Tepee Tents 




At the foot of Mt. Assiniboine 



CAMPING IN CANADA 103 

Tepee tents were put up — ten poles meeting at 
the top, twigs to button it together, and a flap where 
one could enter on all-fours. They were made by 
Indians, and had been, I suppose, white originally, 
but the smoke which comes curling out of the top 
had colored them in beautiful tones of yellow shad- 
ing up into brown. Beds were made for us of sweet- 
smelling spruce, and a fire was built in the center of 
each tent. We could lie and look up through the 
hole in the top and see the stars twinkling and the 
bright sparks from the fire chasing each other off 
into the night. The fire was very comforting, for 
one could not only warm water and toast one's toes 
by it, but it kept away the mosquitoes. 

Ham, jam, cheese, crackers, and tea made our 
first meal. The food was not so good as one gets 
when camping in Maine. It began to rain presently, 
and the night grew very cold. When I woke at five 
everything was covered with frost, and the water 
beside my bed was frozen. This was the 26th of 
July! The cook started my fire, and I was the first 
out. I had slept in my clothes. 

It appeared that our troubles were not yet over, 
for two horses were missing, and Sibbald had not 
yet returned from Banff. Potts set out to look for 
the lost ones, and was gone half the morning. We 
were all blue and on the point of mutiny. But we 
held a council and voted to go on, whatever hap- 



I04 ODD CORNERS 

pened. To reward us, Sibbald arrived with another 
horse and Potts with the missing cayuses, and so the 
party finally started once more. 

Through canyon after canyon we trotted, crossing 
streams, and looking for mountain goats and sheep 
on the high crags and gray cliffs far above us, where 
the little fir trees tapered off to mere points. Some- 
times we had to dismount and climb afoot because it 
was so steep; again there would be a halt till the 
guides could cut away the " windfalls " or fallen 
trees that barred our way. Often the horses plod- 
ded on through deep valleys of burnt timber, gray 
and gaunt, with towering mountains shutting us in 
— it was all so desolate that we felt like lost souls 
wandering through Purgatory. The sharp point 
of a fallen tree snapped and hit my horse with 
a whack that made him buck and run. My stirrups 
were long and I was not very used to riding astride, 
and before I knew what was happening, I was 
thrown to the ground, but was none the worse for 
my fall. 

We were rather weary by the time we reached 
camp that night, and found the guides had chosen 
the dreariest spot imaginable, on the edge of a 
swampy lake where there were millions of mosqui- 
toes. Fortunately one of the party discovered a 
small hollow nearby on higher land, where the 
slopes were covered with pretty pink fireweed. So 



CAMPING. IN CANADA 105 

we were quite cozy after ail, and found good fishing 
to add to our satisfaction, catching some good-sized 
trout, which tasted very delicious. 

At first the mosquitoes were devouring fiends, but 
we sat by a fire on the edge of the lake and the wind 
came up and sent them off to bed, and after that it 
was possible to enjoy ourselves. 

By this time I had proved that my equipment for 
the trip was good. I had two rubber bags, one large 
one for my clothes and a small one for boots, moc- 
casins, camera, books and so on. During the day I 
lived in sweater or coat, and breeches with high 
boots, but changed before supper every night into a 
cloth suit. 

Our experiences the following day consisted of a 
pack horse falling down, and Hank the collie being 
nearly drowned while crossing the swift Spray 
River, and R. shooting a fool hen, which we had for 
•dinner. 

Camp was made that night at Bryant Creek Flats 
— a most beautiful spot, with Jack pines, a waterfall 
dripping over a cliff nearby, and a huge mountain 
like a fortress In the sky. 

Next morning all hands were up bright and early, 
and It was so cold that there was Ice In the basin 
again. When I called out to ask R. the temperature 
he answered, " It Is as cold as a stepmother's 
heart! " And I think It must have been. The sun 



io6 ODD CORNERS 

had been up an hour and a half before it reached us 
in our valley. 

The trail looked like a shoestring above us, and 
the fallen trees had branches like centipedes. The 
climb was so stiff that we had to dismount and lead 
our horses. The flies and mosquitoes were very 
bad. The bulldog flies were simply ravenous. 

But our trip was worth the discomfort, for at last 
we reached the most wonderful place in the world. 
Before us stood Mount Assiniboine in all its glory, 
its head rising high into the clouds and its ice fields 
creeping down into the green lake below, giving out 
great booms as they moved. On each side were two 
lesser peaks like gigantic pyramids. A forest fire 
was raging somewhere out of sight, and white clouds 
of smoke rose over the mountains. What a picture ! 

The horses had such good rolls when they got 
their saddles off, and kicked their heels in the air 
with great gusto before they fell to grazing peace- 
fully. All of us took a bath in the clear glacier lake, 
and felt like real Spartans because we heroically 
ducked to the neck. About us were forget-me-nots 
and wild heliotrope, and the blue columbine, and 
there were anemones which had gone to seed and 
looked like fairy drum-major's caps. 

That night was a hectic one. I heard R's voice 
crying, " You old goat, get up ! There is a porcu- 
pine in the tent! He's under the woodpile! He's 



y 




:?|yMii 










^^^*l.r=?^^ 


^ 



CAMPING IN CANADA 107 

eating our boots." Then a great slashing at some- 
thing with a quirt. " Oh, leave the beast alone," 
begged the other men sleepily. Finally they were 
persuaded to get up and shoot at a black spot in a 
tree. In all, before things quieted down, four por- 
cupines were killed. Next morning R. triumphantly 
showed a pair of boots that had been quite chewed 
up. When Moy made us a porcupine stew we were 
quite ready to forget our loss of sleep. 

The seventh day out from Banff was, like most of 
the others, hot at noon and cold at night. To keep 
themselves warm the guides would put on moccasins 
and Indian black-and-white striped blankets at night. 
In the daytime they were picturesque in fringed 
leather, with bright bandana handkerchiefs. 

The trail that day was over dreary, stony humps, 
like the road from Jericho to Jerusalem. Then we 
traveled over perhaps the longest stretch of burnt 
timber of all, and the poor cayuses were tired of 
lifting their legs and hopping over the fallen logs. 
A terrible thunderstorm came up — it sounded like 
an Indian battle, for the noise of the wind in the 
gaunt burnt trees was like savage war whoops. The 
dead trees about our camp fell like ninepins with 
sharp reports. Nothing else happened, except that 
one of the pack horses, a wild pinto mare named 
Evelyn Thaw, had colic and lay down and refused 
to get up again. 



io8 ODD CORNERS 

In the morning we crossed a magnificent plateau, 
as fine as the Andes, R. said, with snow all about 
us, and bare rock, and the debris of landslides. We 
looked down thousands of feet, while there were 
superb peaks in the distance. Eagles circled far 
below us. It was so cold that there were no mos- 
quitoes, and the peace from them was as though a 
pain had left us. The relief was joyous, the air life- 
giving, and the sunshine comforting. 

From there the party traveled down again through 
a gulch, where a lively coyote ran by, and the little 
gophers came out of their holes to look at us, and 
squealed. On and on, through some clear, cold 
streams where the horses stopped to drink, for at 
least twenty miles, to our next camp. This was 
pitched overlooking Healy's Creek, which flows 
through a deep green ravine, on the side of a moun- 
tain with ragged peaks all about. It was the longest 
and hardest day of all, but the most beautiful. That 
night R. thought he heard another porcupine, but 
concluded it was Potts snoring. " He dreamed he 
was eating flapjacks," R. explained, " and woke up 
chewing his blanket! " 

Next morning a ride of ten miles through the 
woods brought us into Banff once more. A gallop 
to the hotel, and our camping trip was over. For 
ten days we had been out of sight and sound of man, 
where the wild creatures were so innocent that they 



CAMPING IN CANADA 109^ 

stood and looked at us without dread. In spite of 
the disappointments that began the trip it ended up 
gloriously, and all came out, after a ride of a hun- 
dred and twenty miles, in fine condition and feeling 
ready for anything. Sibbald said it was one of the 
stiffest camping trips and he considered us '' all good 
sports.'' 




CHAPTER V 

THE FRINGE OF ALASKA 

Things aren't now as they used to be, 

When gold was flush and the boys were frisky, 

And a man would pull out his battery 

For anything — maybe the price of whisky." 

HE explorer, adventurer and mighty 
hunter have always had an especial fas- 
cination for me, so I was delighted when 
we decided to continue our trip to the 
El Dorado of the North — Alaska. 

As we all know, the first explorer to discover 
Alaska was a Russian named Bering, for whom the 
strait is named. His ship went to pieces on one of 
the Commander Islands and he was lost. This was 
in 1 741. Some of his crew reached home, and 
shortly afterward another Russian, Michael Novi- 
diakov, spurred on by their tales of the new land, 
v/ent there in search of sea otter. Thirty years later 
a Spanish expedition visited the place, and Captain 
Cook of Hawaiian fame made surveys along the 
coast. But Alaska was Russian by right of discov- 
ery and for years was known as Russian America. 



THE FRINGE OF ALASKA iii 

So much for the explorers, though of course there 
were many others. 

Alaska became the property of the United States 
in 1867, having been purchased from the Russian 
government for seven million dollars. At that time 
the price was considered excessive and there was 
much talk of " Seward's Folly." Furs and fisheries 
were the chief sources of income, for gold had not 
then been discovered. 

At the end of the eighteenth century there were 
thousands of hunters engaged in the pursuit of the 
sea otter. Since it was for this that the early 
explorers were searching, it is of interest to know 
something more about the peculiar creature. No 
fur-bearing animal calls for so much endurance and 
courage on the part of the hunter as the sea otter, 
for it is shy and difficult to find. In appearance it is 
much like a beaver, about three feet long, living on 
clams, crabs and mussels, and only visiting the land 
in stormy weather. They are born on the kelp at 
sea, and only one at a birth. 

In the old days, if the ocean was smooth the Indian 
hunters circled about the animal in their boats, clos- 
ing in when it came to the surface to breathe and 
spearing it, making fine sport. That Is the older 
method- — of course today the Indians use the rifle. 
But there are few sea otters now in comparison with 
the olden times. 



112 ODD CORNERS 

Alaska was best known for its sealing industry at 
the time of its purchase. In 1872 one hundred thou- 
sand seals were killed on St. Paul Island alone in the 
short season of about six weeks. No wonder laws 
were necessary to put a stop to this massacre! It 
was customary then to drive the seals up onto the 
flats, where the young males were selected and 
clubbed to death. Congress declared the Seal Islands 
a government reservation and passed laws for the 
protection of all the fur-bearing animals. 

The fishing grounds of Alaska are still famous. 
These are the waters for codfish and herring, and 
also for whales, and there are endless salmon in the 
rivers. (There are several factories where excel- 
lent canned salmon is shipped all over the world.) 
The whale industry, like the fur trade, has fallen 
off tremendously in the last few years. 

But of course the thing which really put Alaska 
on the map, commercially speaking, was the discov- 
ery of gold. Joseph Juneau, for whom the capital 
was named, found the precious metal at Treadwell 
nearly fifty years ago, but it was not until the last 
decade of the nineteenth century that the gold mad- 
ness swept over the country. The richest region 
proved to be in the neighborhood of Nome, which 
in one year yielded fifty million dollars. What 
stories of privations and successes, of brutality and 
heroism, could Alaska tell! 



THE FRINGE OF ALASKA 113 

With its hundreds of islands and lofty mountains 
and deep fiords, with its sparkling glaciers wrapped 
in mist and its glowing midnight suns, it is a mysteri- 
ous and unreal land. 

The tourist steamer Spokane, which we boarded 
at Seattle, proved very comfortable in spite of her 
small staterooms; the table was excellent and the 
service as good as the table. She sailed with some 
hundred and fifty on board shortly before midnight 
on the first of July, and early next morning stopped 
at Victoria, British Columbia, long enough for us to 
go ashore for a motor ride. 

Victoria is very English. The sights and smells 
might be at an English watering place. The quiet 
of it seemed very restful after the hurry and strug- 
gle of the American cities a few miles away. There 
was an almost tropical tangle in the parks — think of 
a place in the latitude of Newfoundland where they 
gather roses at Christmas ! The park, too, had its 
masses of Scotch broom, its artificial water and good 
roads. The civil shopkeepers and self-respecting po- 
lice, the round-shouldered women in tam o' shanters, 
and the men in caps with stick and pipe, were all 
very typically British, as well as the little villas stand- 
ing in their gardens. 

From Victoria our course lay through the Gulf 
of Georgia, with the island of Vancouver on one 
side and the coast of British Columbia proper on 



114 ODD CORNERS 

the other. Along Vancouver the islands and hills 
break down to the shore like the coast of Maine, 
but high ranges, forest clad, rise one behind another, 
while on the mainland the snowy heights of the 
Cascades appear. The scenery from here on is un- 
doubtedly on a larger scale than in Norway, but it 
is very wild and one misses a little the picturesque 
villages and boats and people of the older civiHza- 
tion. The day was misty and at times we could only 
see the dark steep mountain bases rising out of the 
sound, their cones wreathed with white clouds like 
figures of mystery. 

The following morning brought us to Metlakatla, 
a unique community planted on low land but backed 
by precipitous hills. Half a century ago the people 
here were cannibals — a race of degenerate sav- 
ages. But through the efforts of a Scotch mission- 
ary named Duncan, they have been transformed 
into peaceful and thriving Indians. Father Duncan 
was obliged to break with his Church because he 
refused to include the sacrament in his services, lest 
it should revive the cannibalistic appetite of his 
people. 

Ketchikan, which is only a short run over from 
Metlakatla, is quite a town and has much local char- 
acter. Most of it is built on piles out over the 
water, for the mountain is so steep that it gives 
little foothold for houses. There is a scattering of 



THE FRINGE OF ALASKA 115 

small ones up the side, though, some of them very 
pretty and gay with flowers. The streets are of 
planks with wooden steps, as they are in all Alaskan 
towns. 

The people turned out to welcome us and we 
had a good look at Alaskan citizens at their best. 
There were juvenile sports down the planked 
streets, a baseball game and a fire-hose race and 
a native band- — for the Alaskan Indians are fond 
of music. 

It was a curious place with its mixture of Indians, 
Chinese and negroes. The Indians were particu- 
larly well dressed, many of the women wearing 
elaborate hats and trailing pink muslin gowns. One 
old woman, who must have been of some impor- 
tance as she had a totem pole outside her door, 
wore a mauve silk dress which she told us was 
twenty years old, and she added proudly that every 
Fourth of July she carried a parasol! 

A walk up a gorge with a river flowing through 
it led to fine falls; but we were not satisfied to stop 
there and mushed on through the mossy tundra and 
some great woods with a glorious undergrowth of 
fern to other falls still finer than those we had seen 
before. It was just cool enough to be bracing. One 
could look up between the dark trees of the forest 
and see the white snow peaks glistening In the sun- 
light beyond. In the evening we went to the roller 



ii6 ODD CORNERS 

skating rink where the Indians were enjoying them- 
selves. 

It was late when the steamer left Ketchikan, but 
the place is so far north that the sun did not set till 
eleven o'clock, when it went down with a gorgeous 
effect at the end of the fiord. 

Next morning was wet and cold and misty, but 
there were glimpses of dark, severe coasts and then 
a stop at Killisnoo, a tiny, smelly Alaskan village, 
which was exactly our idea of what it should be — 
reeking with fish and dirty, unkempt Indians. Some 
of them belonged to the Salvation Army, though, 
and queer enough it was to see them going about 
the streets singing, preaching and pounding away on 
their drum. We were told their old chief had re- 
cently died, and that he was so afraid of being 
buried alive that he had ordered cannon to be fired 
over him at intervals for a week before the funeral. 
His blankets, valued at several thousand dollars, 
were buried with him. 

Killisnoo is a fishing town, and our stop was for 
the purpose of getting bait to take over to the fishing 
grounds at Kootsnahoo, where we were to have a 
try for halibut. This try proved quite successful, 
and a string of the big fellows was hung up along 
the deck for comparison. 

Sitka turned out to be a surprisingly lovely little 
place in one of the most beautiful situations in the 



THE FRINGE OF ALASKA 117 

world. It lies on the outer coast of Baranoff Island,, 
in a bay where hundreds of islets make an inland sea 
like that of Japan. Round about it are great moun- 
tains, thousands of feet high, with snowy peaks. The 
weather was a bit foggy but that only added to the 
enchantment, and made it cold enough so we felt all 
on tiptoe. 

Once upon a time Sitka was the capital of Alaska, 
with a crew of gay, wild Russians who held high 
revel there and ruled with a cruel hand; now it is a 
clean, pleasant little town with barracks facing a 
green and only an ancient Greek church with its 
gold-covered ikons and black-robed, long-haired 
priests to remind one of its past. Indian women in 
shawls, with babies on their backs, squatted in rows 
along the streets, their wares before them, silent and 
indifferent. Everything was hung with garlands and 
flags in honor of the Fourth of July. 

In the town was a little museum that had a dis- 
play of Alaskan things — native curios such as sled- 
runners of bone, belts of foxes' teeth, and the In- 
dian burial tree. In the olden days, when anyone 
died the body was burned while the relatives danced 
about the pyre, then the ashes were put into a cavity 
in the sacred tree. 

Beyond the town was a park with a lovely walk 
beneath great trees along the water's edge, where 
totem poles had been set up. 



ii8 ODD CORNERS 

The totem poles, and totems generally, are the 
most characteristic indication of the aboriginal 
Alaskan civilization. They represent the clan mark 
or crest of different families and take the form of 
animals such as the frog, the whale, the eagle, the 
bear. If, for instance, the family with the crest of 
the bear marries into the family of the frog, they 
will both be represented on the totem. When a hat 
is displayed it means the family is wealthy and has 
given a potlatch, or feast. Sometimes as many as 
five hats can be seen on one pole. These symbols 
were carved more or less rudely on tall poles that 
stood in front of the houses to show the clan within. 
The beast was repeated on the utensils, furniture or 
apparel belonging to the family. Many of the poles 
and articles were gayly painted. Some of the totem 
poles are most imposing, as high as the tallest trees 
and full of symbolical detail. The Indians to whom 
they belong are very proud of them. 

There are many tribes in Alaska, though one hears 
most about the Siwash Indians. The Haidaks, for 
instance, are known as " the best Indians in Alaska," 
and the Aleuts have been noted as hunters of the 
sea otter. The Kaniags come from the island of 
Kadiak, where the big brown bear is found. 

After our stay in Sitka, we sailed again among 
the islands, — so pretty in their irregularity, with 
the white streaks of surf on their broken sides and 



THE FRINGE OF ALASKA 119 

their crowns of green fir, — away into Pearl Straits 
and Glacier Bay, where the famous Muir Glacier 
comes down to the sea. 

When we woke next morning the Spokane was 
making her way slowly through a gray mist into the 
bay, which at first glimpse looked like a river in 
winter with its broken ice. Indeed, it was so foggy 
and cold and the sea was so full of mush ice floes 
that there seemed little chance of our getting in at 
all. But as we pushed ahead both sky and water 
cleared and we saw the stupendous ice wall, some 
of it as transparent and blue as Montana sapphires — 
the grandest glacier in the world. 

As the Spokane crept nearer and nearer there 
was great excitement on board, for in the past nine 
years the steamer had been in there only three 
times, and no passengers had ever landed. But 
some of our party landed, for all that, in small 
boats from which the sailors carried us ashore. 

The glacier was an amazing sight with its great 
palisades hundreds of feet high, its vast deep-blue 
caverns and its bubbling streams. Above it rose the 
huge black peaks with streaks of snow like ermine 
skins falling from their summits, and bright green 
patches on their sides, and glistening rocks where in 
ages past an ice river had polished its precipices. 
Our party had scarcely stepped aboard the ship again 
when a piece of the glacier came tumbling down 



I20 ODD CORNERS 

with a tremendous roar. We had not tried to reach 
the top, which indeed would have been difficult if 
not impossible and would have taken too much 
time, for it is three hundred feet high, but had con- 
tented ourselves with staying on the moraine. The 
Muir is the largest active glacier known and was 
named in honor of the great naturalist of the Pa- 
cific coast, John Muir. 

The Taku Glacier, farther on, is also alive, and 
comes down into the sea all streaked with deep blue 
shadows and with ice floes before it. On the other 
side of the bay an arm of ice reaches toward the 
water, but it is dead and stops at its moraine. The 
Taku is a splendid sight, but we were somewhat 
surfeited with glaciers by this time, having seen the 
greatest of all. 

Reaching Skagway early in the morning we had 
a full day to take in the sights of this quaint frontier 
town, which lies at the end of the Lynn Canal. 
From it climbs the famous White Horse Pass to the 
Yukon, through which struggled the thousands in 
their mad rush for gold. A little railway goes 
through there now, mounting steadily up the sides 
of the immense fiord, upward and inland, with 
grand scenery unfolding about it. Up and up it 
went, till we came into the snows of the summit that 
had towered above us, and could look down the 
gorges to the trail creeping over the jagged, broken 




On the Yukon River 



THE FRINGE OF ALASKA 121 

rocks and crossing the rushing river, down to Dead 
Horse Gulch where thousands of the miners and 
their animals had died. 

Here was the line between Canada and Alaska, 
and on this summit the two flags were flying side by- 
side at the bronze boundary mark. We had time 
for a snowball fight before the train started back 
again down Its winding way to the sea. 

That afternoon we sailed off through the fiord 
once more, the ranges of snow mountains so mysteri- 
ous in the changing glow of the long northern twi- 
light. The scenery here was more like Norway than 
any other we had seen, but I do not remember any- 
thing there quite so fine as the spot where we passed 
the Davidson glacier and floated in the unearthly 
beauty of that evening. 

The run was short from Skagway to Treadwell. 
The ore there is of very poor quality, but it is mined 
in such quantities that the earnings amount to about 
ten million dollars a year. The superintendent and 
his wife took our little party through the great mines 
on the scarred mountainside and the deafening 
crushing mills, and we watched the men start 
down the shafts to their work, and peered Into 
the Glory Hole out of which had come such 
fortunes. 

The miners were paid three dollars a day and 
their board. Most of them looked big and healthy, 



122 ODD CORNERS 

though I was told that the night shifts grew pale. 
Hungarians predominated, but the owners tried to 
have many different nationalities, so that there 
would not be enough of any one to get together and 
strike. The corporation seemed to take better care 
of its workmen than most, for there were nice little 
houses which the married ones could rent, while the 
boarding houses gave the others as good, if not bet- 
ter, food than much that could be purchased in 
Juneau. Their supplies came up to them specially 
from the " outside," or " down below," as they call 
the States. 

It was interesting to watch the elevators bring 
up the ore to be crushed; after going through 
this process the rock is sent down as sand in 
pans of water which are shaken back and forth 
by machinery; the rock falls to the bottom while 
the metal runs on into other pans and is made 
into gold bricks and shipped to the United 
States. 

Treadwell is on Douglas Island, and just across 
the fiord, on the mainland, lies Juneau, the present 
capital of Alaska. It is a small, uninteresting town, 
not nearly so pretty as Sitka, situated at the foot 
of huge mountains where a canyon leads into the 
interior. It rains there most of the time, as it does 
everywhere in Alaska. I was told that if they had 
sunny weather — which seldom happened — sickness 



THE FRINGE OF ALASKA 123 

was sure to appear ! However, one doesn't mind the 
rain for it is like that of Scotland and doesn't seem 
to wet. 

Skagway had marked our farthest point north 
and from there we had been running south once 
more, though by a different route from that by 
which we had gone up. Among the sights of the 
return trip was Wrangell Narrows, where the green 
waters swirled past green banks, backed by darker 
green forests and mighty mountains beyond. Our 
boat twisted and turned through the narrow pas- 
sages till it brought us to Wrangell, an old Russian 
settlement and fort. 

It was drizzling, but we had a good long walk 
in spite of it, through tangle and tundra to an old 
graveyard where totems with grotesque beasts 
stood watch by the broken seaside. In front of In- 
dian houses were splendid poles all hoary with moss 
and fern, and full of symbol and story. Inside 
these native houses were collections of primitive 
wares. 

Very early next morning we came off Old Kasaan, 
a deserted Indian village of great age and with 
many totem poles quaintly carved and rich in de- 
sign. It was abandoned long ago on account of 
smallpox. There was wonderful moonlight that 
night — all around us the high, dark mountains; 
behind their sharp, ragged line the blue of the sky, 



124 ODD CORNERS 

and resting on the highest peak the big round moon 
smiling down and inviting us to sing. 

The last day of our return trip held some excite- 
ment, for the fog was very thick and at one moment 
it seemed as if the Spokane would surely be 
wrecked. The passengers were running back and 
forth along the deck excitedly, listening to a fog- 
horn and trying to discover whether it came from 
a lighthouse or another ship. Suddenly a ledge 
loomed up just ahead of us and the Spokane was 
backing at full speed to avoid running onto it when 
out of the mist glided another steamer. It was a 
narrow escape, and we were all glad enough to see 
the sun come out a little later. 




CHAPTER VI 

THE GOLDEN STATE 

E had come west again and were on our 
way to the Panama-Pacific Exposition. 
Our train had run over the divide and 
down the Kootenai into the state of 
Washington during the night, and in the morning was 
at Spokane. There our car was attached to another 
train to travel straight across the state to Portland, 
Oregon, covering long stretches of weird yellow 
and black tableland, where Irrigation had made 
the valleys fertile and green, and new farms were 
being developed. Then through the canyon of the 
Snake River, and on into the gorge of the Colum- 
bia, which is one of the sights of the world, so 
grand and varied that there is nothing quite like it. 
Watching the splendid panorama develop for mile 
after mile along the magnificent causeway, we took 
pride in realizing that L.'s great-great-grandfather, 
Captain William Clark, of the Lewis and Clark 
expedition, who came down the Columbia ahead of 
Lewis, was the first white man to sail upon this river 
and so *' discovered " it to the nation. 

125 



126 ODD CORNERS 

At Portland we dined with friends and took a 
walk about the gay city, with its suburbs of pretty 
bungalows covered with roses. The next morning 
found us in southern Oregon, passing into the 
Coast Range, where big game is found. Toward 
late afternoon the train reached the Cascades and 
Kiskiyous and climbed up the splendid moun- 
tainsides with ever-widening views of fair valleys 
below, zigzagging up the steeps as the sun went 
down. 

After going through the tunnel at the summit 
and coming out on the California side, we were dis- 
appointed not to be able to see great Shasta rising 
fourteen thousand feet out of the plain — higher 
than Fuji San but not so beautifully coned. But we 
were not to miss it, after all. When dinner was 
over, the mighty peak was in full view from the 
rear platform. The huge dim shape rose into the 
skies, seeming even more impressive and wonder- 
ful than when we had seen it before by day. The 
white snow-streaked sides reflecting the mysterious 
moonlight were indeed high above our heads. Hour 
after hour the gigantic shadow followed us down 
the lower slopes of the range. Some hours later, 
L. tried to catch a glimpse of Mt. Lassen, our 
only active American volcano, but could see noth- 
ing in the dimness of the rather smoky night. 

The following morning we were on the plains of 



THE GOLDEN STATE 127 

California, breakfasting while waiting in the station 
at Sacramento, and reaching Oakland and San Fran- 
cisco in time for luncheon. 

The fine hotel where we stopped (for it was 
one of the best hotels I ever stayed at in America) 
was perched on the top of Nob's Hill in the heart 
of 'Frisco. Now Nob's Hill is perhaps the steepest 
in any city of the world, so that looking out of our 
windows was like looking from the topside window 
of a hotel sixty or seventy stories high. The city 
and the magnificent harbor and the superb moun- 
tains beyond the harbor were all spread out like a 
map. I watched one of the Japanese trans-Pacific 
boats, apparently no bigger than a toy (alas! there 
are no longer any American trans-Pacific boats left 
to arrive here since La Follette's bill has driven the 
American flag from the ocean). These ships awak- 
ened in me memories of the Far East. I could see 
a few warships — among them the poor Princeton, 
which came limping in, having been raised from the 
bottom at Pago Pago after her sinking there. But 
there were not so many ships of commerce in sight 
as there ought to be in this wonderful bay that 
could hold all the ships of the world comfortably 
and safely. 

We took a motor drive in a terrifyingly reckless 
manner up and down the perpendicular streets, 
past rows of absurdly ugly little houses and gaunt, 



128 ODD CORNERS 

empty lots that told of the earthquake and fire of a 
few years ago, past the houses of rich Cali- 
fornians, mostly extraordinary architectural con- 
structions overhanging the steep ledges of the city. 
Our first bird's-eye view of the Exposition was from 
a jumping-off place just above the grounds. The 
buildings were many-colored, but in soft tints that 
blended in with the setting of brown mountains about 
and blue waters beneath. 

The flags at the Exposition were very beautiful, 
banners and pennons and standards of all sorts of 
shapes, in blending shades, flying so gracefully and 
giving life to the charming vistas; and the Italian 
skies of those line days gave a clear outline to the 
handsome buildings in the flooding sunshine. 

The planting of great trees and the parterres of 
flowers were extraordinary. The palms and tropical 
plants set out against the Spanish-looking archi- 
tecture made the whole place seem very for- 
eign and far away. It was really indescribably 
lovely. 

Again we looked down on the Exposition, this 
time when it was illuminated at night. It was even 
finer than in the day, a sea of lights marking out 
all the features of the grounds. A motor took us 
to the State Buildings and the new Foreign Con- 
cessions — some of the structures rather interesting 
and all quite effective. 




j^"... }J!^^ 




-^1, 




Down the Trail 



THE GOLDEN STATE 129 

Words can never describe the wonderful beauty 
of the architectural arrangement and the setting ot 
the Fine Arts Building. It was worth the long trip 
to see that alone at night, Its columns reflected in 
the lagoon, so solemn and dignified. The glorious 
structure was most Impressive as we walked slowly 
through its lights and shadows, and stopped and 
looked and wondered. 

Some of the other structures were quite handsome, 
and several of the " Courts '' very imposing. In the 
"Zone" was a long line of ''shows'^ and "attrac- 
tions," for all the world like an overgrown country 
fair. It was noisy and exciting — as It was intended 
to be. Finally, at eleven o'clock we watched a 
birdman go up In his illuminated aeroplane and do 
stunts in the sky above us, looping the loop and 
setting off fireworks, some streaming away behind 
him like the tail of a peacock. 

Going south from 'Frisco, at a little place called 
Exeter our car was attached to an electric engine 
that took us winding up among the yellow-brown 
foothills of the Sierras. Our next stop was at 
Lemon Cove, from which we visited the largest 
grove of the famous " big trees." For Hvq hours 
we motored up into the heart of the Sierras, where 
few travelers go. Near the town the bungalows 
were covered with spreading umbrella trees and 



130 ODD CORNERS 

made gay with pink oleanders. Beyond were bare, 
gray mountains, severe in their grandeur. 

"We checked our pace, the red road sharply rounding; 
We heard the troubled flow 
Of the dark olive depths of pines resounding 
A thousand feet below." 

After entering the gates of the new National 
Sequoia Park and lunching in a pretty, secluded 
spot, we went on into the deep forest. The pines 
and cedars and firs towered far above us. Still 
climbing on, at last we came to the superb giant 
Sequoias, the largest grove in the world. The red, 
leopard-like bark seems actually to glow through 
the glades and canyons and by the meadows. The 
huge, straight trunks rise to their great height 
clean and bare of branches till near the top, where 
the stubby limbs twist out picturesquely with long 
green needles. Curiously enough, the cones of the 
Sequoias are absurdly small, but those of the white 
pines of this region are enormous. 

Impressive, solemn, unbelievable, stood the glo- 
rious ancient trees, which were alive when Pharaoh 
built the pyramids. It was here among these we 
pitched our tents. So we saw them in the sunshine, 
when they glowed rich red-brown, their colors 
brought into relief by the soot-black patches burned 
in prehistoric fires; we saw them, too, with their 
heads veiled in mists, we saw them in the setting 



THE GOLDEN STATE 131 

sun and in the flooding moonlight, and we saw them 
by the camp fire gleaming among their enormous 
roots, the huge trunks rising like columns of some 
vast temple. 

Riding one morning along the dusty trail through 
the woods we came upon the tracks of mountain lions 
and of a bear and her cubs. As the snow began 
to fall and the white flakes filled the air, the un- 
earthly beauty of the forest made us feel very far 
away from civilization and very near heaven. But 
the storm Increased and our guides insisted that 
we should leave the park, so we were obliged to 
make our way down from heaven to earth once 
more. 

At Bakersfield we stopped over to visit the 
Tejon Ranchos. This great ranch belonged to old 
General Beale, and I had heard of It for years as 
one of the finest in California, almost three hun- 
dred thousand acres of flat valley land and moun- 
tain ranges where thousands of cattle graze. 

Bakersfield is In the center of the widespread San 
Joaquin Valley, which blossoms wherever irrigation 
touches It, and nearby are famous oil fields. We 
drove through the town, which is prettier than its 
name and not very lively, but has nice little bunga- 
low houses and ambitious court and city buildings. 

It Is thirty-five miles to the ranch, which lies at 
the foot of the Sierras, and so a motor took us to 



132 ODD CORNERS 

it straight as a die across the flat prairie. The road- 
way — along which palms were planted and wild 
squash and black-eyed Susan grew abundantly — 
was excellent for some ten miles. Then we turned 
off the regular route, which zigzags along the sec- 
tions of irrigated land, here divided into tracts of 
one square mile each. Where the water has been 
brought in there are rows of eucalyptus to shade 
the roads and canals, and wide fields of alfalfa and 
Kaffir corn, and barns for grazing cattle; but in 
other places, perhaps just on the opposite side of 
the road, where the water has not been brought in, 
the prairie stretches away, bare and gray and 
brown, covered with bluish and greenish scrub in 
pastel colors, to the bases of the ravined moun- 
tains that look gray in the haze of distance. Prairie 
dogs were dashing about, and in front of their holes 
sat little round-eyed owls. Our ride was varied by 
a most exciting race with a coyote. 

The ranch house was at the foot of the Sierras and 
most picturesque — an oasis of green in a little val- 
ley. The pale yellow adobe dwelling — -which has 
lately been burned to the ground — covered with 
lovely vines and flowers, was quite like a Mexican 
hacienda. By a narrow passage with its hanging 
lamp we entered the most perfect of patios, where 
all the vine-embowered doors and windows opened 
on the little court with its paved way and beds of 



THE GOLDEN STATE 133 

flowers, over which a huge live oak sprinkled light 
and shade. The wide porch, furnished with tables 
and lounging chairs, was most attractive, with a 
banana palm and flowering pink oleanders in front, 
and a grove of orange trees to one side. A little 
way off was a building overhung by palms, with one 
end open to the air, where one could bathe in either 
sunshine or shadow. We had a delicious bath here 
in a pool of soft, clear water. About the whole place 
was the atmosphere of romance which goes with 
Spanish or Mexican people and names. 

The practical side was not lacking, however, for 
there were on the ranch fifteen thousand head of 
cattle, a flock of angora goats, one hundred and 
fifty ostriches, besides many pigs, hens and dogs. 
Quite a happy family ! 

Even excitement was provided in the murder of 
a Spaniard. We were told the man lived in a tiny 
cottage all by himself. His only neighbors were a 
Mexican and his Indian wife, and a Spanish man of 
all work, who was undersized and peculiar. Bloody 
cowboy boots were found in the Mexican's house, 
but as neither one of them was a cowboy and so did 
not wear such boots, the mystery deepened. It was 
never fathomed and the Mexican was acquitted. 

At the store where the ranch people and the 
Indians of the neighborhood came to trade, we 
bought bandana handkerchiefs and lassos. It was 



134 ODD CORNERS 

delightful to walk through the lemon groves, and 
pick pomegranates and persimmons, as well as 
grapes and figs. After a good luncheon, we started 
for Bakersfield just when the sunset overspread the 
plain with a sea of golden glow. The moon rose 
over the Sierras as the sun went down, and the 
lights of the oil fields twinkled out, like a fairy 
city. 

Our visit to Los Angeles, a big, bustling, grow- 
ing city, full of the enterprise and push of the Pa- 
cific coast, I remember chiefly for the motor trip 
to Universal City, the city of films. After driving 
about twelve miles, through suburbs containing 
some of the prettiest bungalows I have ever seen, 
past several film enclosures where they do not admit 
visitors, we reached a place among the mountains 
where we could enter. Inside the grounds was a 
supposedly stone castle in Italy, put up for some 
well-known actress, for one performance only, and 
left there, at least for the moment, until it should 
be pulled down or used again. Not far from this 
stood the side of a house and a wooden hut, to be 
photographed when needed. Cowboys on ponies 
were galloping about, and girls and men In costume 
and much paint were wandering through the 
enclosure. 

For Interior scenes a long, low building of iron 
framework with a cheesecloth top was used. In 




Leaving the Canyon 



THE GOLDEN STATE 135 

the different rooms, or divisions, several plays 
were going on at the same time. Behind the scenes 
were dressing-rooms. While actors were taking 
their parts, the stage manager read the manuscript 
and someone else took the pictures. If the play 
was not well acted, it might be repeated several 
times. Some of the actors composed lines to make 
the pictures more realistic. 

We also visited the " prop." department with its 
furnishings of every description and period, which 
the guide told us they hired from furniture stores. 
Another building contained artists painting scenery, 
and a stage for bad weather, lighted with strong 
Cooper-Hewitt lights. After acting a few hours 
with these lights everyone Is exhausted, and for this 
reason our moving picture films are almost all made 
In the open either in Florida or in California, where 
the air is wonderfully dry and there is little rain. 

Our last stop of interest in the Golden State was 
San Diego. The Exposition which was going on in 
a lovely park, a short distance from the town, was 
small, but quite perfect in its Spanish style. The 
buildings were made of stucco, and many of them 
were to remain permanently. The park had been 
planted with great artistic effect, and already the 
large-leaved vines and flowering creepers were run- 
ning riot over the gray walls. Pink geraniums, big 
blue morning glories, roses, clematis, jessamine, and 



136 ODD CORNERS 

the glorious bougainvillea were growing here, and 
the avenues were shaded by palms, cypresses, euca- 
lyptus and acacias, as well as the beautiful pepper 
trees. 

The church with two huge bells and the plaza 
with its pigeons were quite Spanish, as well as the 
iron balconies with floating draperies. Many of the 
attendants at the Fair were in Mexican costume, 
and dancers did the fandango in the square, while 
the castanets clicked and the people cried " Hola 1 
hola!" 

In the Art Gallery was a small chapel with wood 
carvings of ancient days, but the pictures were pain- 
fully modern. Henri and Hassen were especially 
popular. 

Among the State Buildings, New Mexico^s was 
perhaps the most picturesque, looking over the 
canyon where a troop of United States cavalry was 
encamped in tents. This Exposition, like all others, 
possessed its " Street of Joy " with its side shows, 
the Indian village being an especially good repro- 
duction of Acoma. This section was called the 
"Midway" at Chicago, the "Zone" at San Fran- 
cisco, the "Pike" at Saint Louis, the "Trail" at 
Portland, and the "Streets of Cairo" at the Paris 
Exposition. 

From Southern California we turned aside 
from the direct route, after crossing the Mojave 



THE GOLDEN STATE 137 

Desert, to see the Grand Canyon of the Colorado. 
The huge chasm glowed like a jewel in the sun, with 
deep blue shadows; it was a vast expanse of depth 
and color. From the rim above Bright Angel Trail 
a pack train could be seen, like a procession of ants, 
winding slowly along the bottom, thousands of feet 
below, while the tall pine trees were stuck in the 
cliffs like little green pins in a cushion. The canyon 
opened out to our view like a gigantic, many-colored 
sea anemone, but the limitless stretch of curiously 
shaped buttes was a chaos of battleships and pyra- 
mids. The vastness and silence made one feel very 
small. 



CHAPTER VII 

DAYS IN THE DRY LANDS 

" The huge red buttressed mesa over yonder 
Is merely a far-oflf temple where the sleepy sun is burning 
Its altar-fires of pinyon and of toyon for the day. 

"The old priests sleep, white shrouded, 
Their pottery whistles lie beside them, the prayer-sticks closely 

feathered ; 
On every mummied face there glows a smile." 

—John Gould Fletcher. 

T is in the dry lands of the Southwest 
that one finds the brilliant Painted 
Desert and the Petrified Forest, with its 
great logs and chips upon the sand glint- 
ing like a million jewels, and the Cliff Dwellings too, 
which are all worth seeing, but they have been so 
often described that I spare the reader. This land 
is a sandy desert, with strange mesa formations and 
empty river beds, but is enriched with mines of 
gold and coal. 

When Arizona and New Mexico were acquired by 
our Government, all the Indians of the region by 
treaty became citizens, the women having the right 
to vote as well as the men, which, however, the 

138 




DAYS IN THE DRY LANDS 139 

women do not indulge in, I believe. Various tribes 
of Indians are scattered over this part of the country 
and seem to be prospering more or less. 

To visit the Enchanted Mesa we stopped at 
Laguna, which consisted of a railway station and 
two or three freight cars converted into houses and 
inhabited by Mexicans. Waiting for us were a 
couple of motors to take us to the Enchanted Mesa 
and the Indian village of Acoma, far across the 
desert. 

The motors bounced and jumped and seemed to 
swim the rivers. Several times we were stuck in 
the sand and dug ourselves out with shovels. Again 
and again we had to stop and fill the engines with 
water from large canvas bags that we carried. The 
wind blew, and the sand flew, and we covered our 
faces with veils. 

The great boulders in the midst of the yellow 
and gray prairie had been washed into strange 
shapes and forms like prehistoric monsters, for 
this region, like the Grand Canyon, was swept by 
water ages before the advent of man. We discov- 
ered Siegfried's dragon and the Chinese turtle 
which stands for longevity. 

The Enchanted Mesa is four hundred feet high, 
and in olden days it was inhabited. A single trail 
led to the village on the top. The story goes that 
while the Indian men were in the fields below they 



140 ODD CORNERS 

were surprised by Spaniards, who put them all to 
death. As the women preferred starvation to cap- 
tivity, they destroyed the trail, so that their enemies 
could not reach them. 

Acoma, the City of the Sky, is also on a mesa. 
Looking up at this golden mountain of rock, we 
saw small figures which proved to be Indian girls 
gazing down at us in surprise. On the way up 
the steep trail of sand we met a picturesque old 
fellow driving a burro with a huge pack. Panting 
from the hard climb, we reached the adobe village, 
which contained a church and a graveyard, on the 
mud wall of which hideous faces were made to 
scare away evil spirits. 

L. and I wandered about. In this, as in other 
pueblos, the houses are bare and are built one above 
another, and are reached by climbing ladders from 
roof to roof. On the roof there were fires and 
ovens, and green corn and red peppers drying. 
Little children, full of excitement at our visit, scam- 
pered about below in gay shawls and beads. The 
chief, a very old man, and several women greeted 
us politely; most of the men were away. 

After saying good-by, we were shown down a 
rocky path, evidently intended for the shoeless, for 
there were holes cut in the rock. We had to climb 
down like monkeys, but finally reached the bottom 
in safety. The ride back to the car was very lovely, 



DAYS IN THE DRY LANDS 141 

with the dark bushes and pines and the yellow and 
pink boulders changing colors as the sun played hide 
and seek with a black cloud. We had no mishaps 
this trip, except that a tire burst, — we were obliged 
to scoot along on the rim, — and it began to rain 
before we reached our destination. All the latter 
part of the way an Indian kept pace with us on his 
pony. 

Another visit among the Indians proved even 
more Interesting. Never have I been in a stranger 
land than the land of the Zuni, and nowhere have 
I witnessed weirder customs. This pueblo stands 
by Itself in its valley beyond the mesas, and the 
forty-five mile road in from the great railway can 
be almost impassable at some seasons of the 
year. We were fortunate in having perfect weather 
and the roads better than our drivers had ever 
seen them, so that the trip was made in record 
time. 

During the night our car had been side-tracked 
at Gallup, and very early in the morning we were 
up and breakfasted and packed for the trip. The 
four of us went in two surreys, with a wagon to 
carry extra blankets and such things as the stop- 
ping place at the pueblo might lack. Soon we were 
off, out of the frontier town and through a gorge, 
up over mesas, down into arroyos, scrambling up the 
sides of orange-colored, castellated cliffs, all in a 



142 ODD CORNERS 

country that was queerly beautiful with its fantastic 
formations of rock, its many-colored sands, and its 
stunted cedars. Along the way we passed a number 
of Navaho Indians, and saw their hogans, or huts. 
But we were bound for Zuiii, and the Navahoes held 
little interest for us. 

A two-roomed adobe ranch house was soon 
reached. The furniture of the principal room con- 
sisted of a stove with a piece of pork on it, a heap 
of sacking in one corner, and a saddle. The place 
was so filthy that our lunch basket was opened out 
under a tree, where the clear, cold air gave us all 
good appetites. 

Early in the afternoon we came in sight of 
Thunder Mountain, considered holy by the Zuiii, 
who claim they had their pueblo there in times long 
past. Soon the sandy valley within the mountains 
appeared and — because the air was so clear we could 
see a long distance across the plain — -the little brown 
pile of the Zuni pueblo rose beside a shrunken stream, 
with its blue smoke rising into the sky. We had 
still far to go, however, and the slanting sun was 
bringing out the colors of mountain and plateau when 
at last we drew up beneath the community houses 
in which these " pagan " Indians dwell. 

The village is built all together, with its flat roofs 
rising like irregular steps, for some of the houses 
are five stories high. The streets are narrow and 



DAYS IN THE DRY LANDS 143 

crooked, closely walled in by the houses, which are 
all built of an adobe that was a pinkish-brown in the 
setting sun. Indians in red blankets stood here and 
there on the roof tops in dignified silhouette, and 
their women in strange and picturesque costumes 
came to the well to 'fill their black and white ollas, 
carrying them away balanced on their heads. 

As we got out of our wagons the agent of the 
reservation, who had seen us coming across the 
plain, came up and told us — much to our surprise 
and delight — that a dance was going on, a prayer for 
the rain so much needed in this parched country, 
and we were just in time to see it. It was like a 
game of *' follow your leader " to go with him, for 
he took us up over ladders and along roof tops, 
till at last we found ourselves among a crowd of 
Indians who had gathered on every available ter- 
race overlooking the sacred square, where the chief 
dancing was to take place. They made gay groups 
in their vivid red or varicolored blankets, standing 
on the house tops, motionless as only Indians can, 
or crowding the terraces below, with funny, chubby 
little children scampering about over the edges of 
the roofs and romping over the hard earth floor 
of the square. 

Hardly were L. and I seated when the sound of 
approaching tom-toms was heard coming nearer 
and nearer through the narrow passages, and pres- 



144 ODD CORNERS 

ently a procession entered, dancing in their strange 
manner, jumping first on one foot, then on the 
other, and brandishing wooden swords tipped with 
sacred feathers. They were a motley line, all 
made up in fantastic fashion with whitened bodies 
above gayly colored skirts and sashes, and feathered 
headdresses topping all. After circling round the 
plaza they stopped, and each man in turn danced 
over to a white spot on the ground and lifting 
his wooden sword, swallowed it, feathers and all, 
with perfect ease. Fortunately, they were pulled 
out again ! After all had rejoined the line, the dance 
was resumed, stopping only once, while someone 
stepped into the circle and made a prayer. Then, 
leaving the square as they had come, they returned 
to their chapter house. This program was re- 
peated several times during the afternoon, I sup- 
pose by different fraternities. Meanwhile, we had 
seen two extraordinary figures in huge masks and 
feathered dress — really a most decorative costume, 
but one difficult to describe — going about from one 
chapter house to another, making grotesque ges- 
tures and throwing meal. They represented an- 
thropic gods, ancestral mediators in the wonderful 
religion of this unique people. All this took place 
in the glow of a beautiful sunset, with the plain 
beyond, where the great mesas rose many-hued 
against the sky. 



DAYS IN THE DRY LANDS 145 

But our good fortune did not end here. That 
night we had supper at the trading store (which 
was pretty dirty), and met Mrs. Stevenson, who 
was the Smithsonian student of Zufii Indians, and 
had passed her life among them. Of course she 
knew them as no one else could, and because they 
loved her, calling her " mother," she had many 
privileges that no one else enjoyed. It was through 
her kindness that we spent quite the strangest 
evening of our lives, for she took us to see the danc- 
ing in the estufas, the chapter houses, which out- 
siders rarely enter. 

These estufas are queer adobe houses which may 
be entered only by means of ladders, through holes 
in the roofs. We watched from an adjoining room 
what went on in the Estufa of the Zenith, which 
was filled with members of the fraternity. To the 
sound of endless monotonous singing, down the 
ladder from above came remarkable creatures out 
of the darkness — ^'* warriors from below," shades 
of their ancestors— in wonderful masked costumes. 
They danced tirelessly, and then went up again into 
the darkness. 

From one chapter house to another we went, for 
the dancing lasted most of the night. In the Estufa 
of the South we saw what Mrs. Stevenson said 
only a few students had ever been allowed to wit- 
ness, a dance of the Blue Horns — -growling, roar- 



146 ODD CORNERS 

ing, wildly masked creatures with great sticks, who 
pranced up and down in the weird light of the 
sacred fire, which played warmly on the adobe 
walls. Before these monsters came those who suf- 
fered from various troubles, such as sleeplessness 
or ague. These were beaten soundly by the stick of 
each dancer, a process which was supposed to 
cure them of their ailments and drive out the 
evil spirits which possessed them. It was very 
curious, but, like the sword-swallowing, rather un- 
pleasant. 

Men and women alike were told to take off their 
hats in this estufa, I suppose because the sacred fire 
was burning. As few white people had ever seen 
this performance our Zuni guide was afraid he might 
get a whipping for taking us there and ran away, 
but no one asked us to leave, so we stayed as long 
as there was anything to see. 

All the fantastic costumes were really attractive 
in their grotesqueness and their vivid colors. The 
painted skins, too, where there was but little dress, 
were very effective. 

Out into the narrow streets, which a glorious moon 
made strange and eerie, we walked from the chapter 
house, but even here there was more to see. For 
on nearing the stream two Indians appeared, masked 
and queerly clad, dancing the dance of the deer, 
stopping, whirling, capering, all so silently. Then 



DAYS IN THE DRY LANDS 147 

a whole band of them came out, passing in proces- 
sion down to the thin stream of the river trickling 
in Its sandy bed, where they took water In their 
hands and prayed. I think they were singing this 
song, which was composed by one of their people: 

" I-o-ho, wonder-water, 
I-o-ho, wonder-water, 
Life anew to him who drinks! 
Look where southwest clouds are bringing rain; 
Look where southwest clouds are bringing rain; 
Life anew to him who drinks! 
I-o-ho, wonder-water, 
I-o-ho, wonder-water. 
Life anew to him who drinks! *' 

After many ceremonies, they pranced back again 
to their pueblo in the weird moonlight. This ended 
our wonderful evening, and was for us the last of 
the sacred rites of a people who are unique in their 
mysteries. . 

After a night In the trading store, we went out 
to see the village In the more commonplace light of 
every day. It was all as clean as clean could be, 
being inspected daily by a matron who saw that it 
was kept so. The houses had earthen floors and 
open fires, and generally consisted of two large 
rooms. A few of them had beds, but as a rule the 
people slept on goatskins laid on the floor, with 
blankets for covering. Now and then one found a 



148 ODD CORNERS 

house with windows, but most of them had none. 
When the houses were several stories high, each 
floor above the first was occupied by a younger 
branch of tiic family. Curiously enough, the 
women owned tlic luuises. 

Indeed, the Zuni are really \ery feministic, for 
the women ask the men to marry them; the men, 
however, sometimes have more than one wife at a 
time, which seems contradictory. I could not fmd 
that tlicy had any particular marriage scrN'ice. 
The clever Indians who could speak English were 
often suspected of being wizards, and occasionally 
it was charged that a grasshopper plague or a dis- 
ease in the \illage had been brought on by one of* 
them. \Ve saw a man who had actually been saved 
from hanging for witchcraft only by the interven- 
tion of Lhiited States troops! 

When the children oi the Zuni went to school 
they were giNcn American names and American 
clothes. But tliat was as far as their Americaniza- 
tion went, apparently, for while they were taught 
English branches, it was a curious fact that you 
ioimd \cr\ few in the village who could or would 
speak English. Onlv the poorer children went to 
school aiiVNvay at that time, for the more prosper- 
ous parents did not seem to care to have theirs 
educated. 

Mrs. Stevenson took us to the post ofHce, which 



DAYS IN THE DRY LANDS 149 

was kept by the clergyman and his wife, and I talked 
with the colored doctor who boarded there. He 
said the Indians were pretty healthy, as a rule ; they 
had severe colds, but there were few cripples among 
them. They were a self-respecting people and would 
not accept money, although they would take presents 
of tobacco and shells. Nor did they seem anxious 
to sell any of their belongings. It was truly delight- 
ful to find them so unspoiled. 

We had planned to get oft' early, but it was so 
interesting to go about among the people that we 
could hardly tear ourselves away. In their houses 
we saw the women at their tasks, grinding the meal 
and baking in their little mound-like ovens — such 
pretty women, too, as they were! It was noon 
before we started out on our forty-five mile drive 
back to " civilization." This is the last glimpse of 
old ZunI, for soon after our visit the great dam was 
built, and alas! Mrs. Stevenson has died. 

I have always liked the Indians and been inter- 
ested in them. We were, indeed, grateful to them 
for allowing us to witness their ceremonies and 
wished in some way to say thank you. We con- 
sulted Mrs. Stevenson, and she told us they prized 
a certain kind of shell from the Pacific coast. 
After a great deal of difficulty we at last succeeded 
in finding the desired variety. This is the answer 
my husband received from the Indian chief: 



I50 ODD CORNERS 

" Tonyo Ranch, 
Espafiola, N. M. 
" The Great American, I address you. You must 
listen to my words. I am not at Shiwinakwi, my 
home, but am far away at my mother's * house. 
I am happy all the time here, with my mother. I 
have asked my mother often to write and thank you 
for the shells, but my mother does not always listen 
to my words. You know she is my mother and I 
am only her child, and she does not have to listen 
if she does not wish to give heed to my words. My 
mother is good if she will not always listen. I am 
anxious to see my friend, the Great American. 
Alas! alas! he is not before my eyes. In a short 
time I am going home to my people, my ahoi (peo- 
ple of an estufa), of the kiwitsi (estufa), I think 
they will be happy to see me, but as I cannot see 
into their hearts I cannot know. The shells, the 
beautiful shells that have made me so happy and 
will make my ahoi so happy when I take them to 
the kiwitsi. My heart is happy while I thank you 
for the beautiful and valuable shells, and my heart 
will continue to be happy whenever I look upon the 
shells and when I see my friend the Great Ameri- 
can through my heart. You have not sent us a few 
but many, to make us thank you with our hearts. 
Our hearts will speak to your heart and I know that 
you will understand. Others would not understand 
but you have been with us in the kiwitsi, you have 
seen us dance, you have heard my people sing 
prayers to our gods. You know my people, the 

* Mrs. Stevenson. 




Dance of Ancestral Spirits 




Dance of the Sword Swallowers 



DAYS IN THE DRY LANDS 151 

corn people (reference to the clan), and you know 
my ahoi (people of the estufa), for you have been 
with us. Only you and your friends have been with 
us as our mother has, and I think others will never 
enter our kiwitsi, but when you come again you will 
come to the kiwitsi and be with us as a father and 
a brother. You are wise In many things and we 
are also wise in many things, things that Americans 
know not of. I wish you to sprinkle the sacred 
meal to your gods that they may speak with my 
gods and the rains may come and make the earth 
beautiful with the fruits of her being. May you 
and your wife who too, was with us, have more of 
the sacred breath of life that you may both live the 
span of life, not die, but sleep to awake as a little 
child in the undermost world of your people. My 
heart shakes hands with you both, with a prayer 
that you may not forget the people to whom you 
have been so generous and good and, may you both 
come back to us. We wish to see our friend the 
Great American. 

" *Salu*saiiti (corn pollen). I make 
you my clan name." 



CHAPTER VIII 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO 




HIS trip through Mexico was also made 
in a private car, sleeping on board every 
night for weeks. A marvelous trip it 
was, with glorious views of mountains 
and tropical forests and glimpses of a strange peo- 
ple and the ruins of an ancient civilization in the 
New World. 

Monterey, which was captured by General Tay- 
lor during our war with Mexico, was the first 
Mexican town we saw after crossing the border. 
When I looked out of the car window, on awaking 
in the morning, this strange country seemed like a 
new and bewildering dream. There were splendid 
mountains that towered above us and queer little 
dark men in tall, peaked hats, who peeped in at us. 
Our first real stopping place, however, was to be 
Tampico, on the Gulf, so we sped along, down 
toward the lowlands. As the day wore on, the 
weather grew warmer, the grass became greener, 
there were greater numbers of trees and birds, and 
everything looked more tropical. 

152 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO 153 

At Tampico the car was run out on the beach, 
where we got a whiff of the sea and could hear 
the waves breaking on the shore. A little boat 
took us up the fascinating Panuco River, where 
tarpon were jumping out of the water and tur- 
tles and even alligators were dozing on logs, while 
above us flew herons, storks and doves. Here 
and there along the green banks haciendas could be 
seen, and once in a while strange-looking boats filled 
with grain for the town were poled along near the 
shore. 

That night we went shark fishing away out on a 
jetty, and found it quite exciting, for the planks 
were few and the water deep. In the early morn- 
ing we were off on our way to San Luis Potosi, and 
oh, such wonderful scenery! At one place the 
train passed over a chasm where you could look 
down to a river hundreds of feet below. We 
climbed, climbed — all day. It was quite a thrilling 
journey, for the train was longer and heavier than 
usual, and it broke in two several times. More- 
over, the air brakes on our car didn't work and 
there was only a hand brake to depend upon, which 
was hardly enough on such a steep grade. So 
finally, it seemed best to go into the Wells-Fargo 
express car, next to the engine, where an agreeable 
Texan entertained us till we reached the top in safety. 

San Luis Potosi, on a very high plain among the 



154 ODD CORNERS 

Sierras, had many points of attractiveness. Its 
regular, well paved streets, lined by freshly painted 
houses, its perfect climate, in which the mercury sel- 
dom drops below the freezing point, and its park 
and plazas all tempted us to linger. But we had 
time for only a glimpse of the place before going on 
among the mountains — passing on the way Dolores 
Hidalgo, the home of Father Hidalgo, one of the 
few really sincere patriots that Mexico has produced. 
We noticed at the stations that every Mexican 
owned a dirty pig and a thin dog. The dogs were 
the most dreadful-looking creatures — many curs — 
generally lame, because they often get run over. 
Every woman seemed to have a ragged baby. Even 
in those days there were beggars, and many little 
hands were put out for " a centavo, a centavo ! " 
Sometimes we could set them scampering by throw- 
ing them coins, but, for the most part, they seemed 
lazy, stupid and ugly. They do possess, however, 
strong, healthy bodies and have good figures, and 
some of the Indian women, especially, have beau- 
tiful necks and arms and long black hair, which is 
worn in two heavy braids hanging down the back. 
The dress of the Indian women is quite pretty — a 
low-necked and short-sleeved chemise, sometimes 
decorated with drawn work, and a skirt made of a 
blanket wrapped about the form with most of the 
fullness in front. 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO 155 

This piece of verse certainly gives a vivid descrip- 
tion of the poorer quarters of Mexican towns: 

"By an alley lined with tumble-down shacks 
And street-lamps askew, half-sputtering, 
Feebly glimmering on gutters choked with filth and dogs 
Scratching their mangy backs; 
Half-naked children are running about, 
Women puff cigarettes in dark doorways, 
Crickets are crying. 
Men slouch sullenly 
In the shadows; 
Behind a hedge of cactus, 
The smell of a dead horse 
Mingles with the smell of tamales frying."* 

Higher and still nearer the clouds we climbed to 
the plateau — called the Valley of Mexico — on which 
Mexico City stands. Cortes built his city on the site 
of Tenochtitlan of the Aztecs. Montezuma's capi- 
tal was on an island in Lake Texcoco, the largest of 
the six lakes that remained from the great lagoon 
which once covered the whole valley. Three cause- 
ways leading across the water were the only means 
of approach. The problem of protecting it from 
inundation was never entirely solved by the Aztecs, 
nor was the safety of the city insured until the com- 
pletion of the great drainage canal in 1900. Curi- 
ously enough, the removal of the subsoil water has 
given rise to a different problem — how to prevent 

*John Gould Fletcher 



\ 1 

1 that remains. 



156 ODD CORNERS 

the heavier buildings from sinking In the soft mud 



Among the many new and handsome buildings the 
city contained were scattered here and there pic- 
turesque old churches dating from Spanish days, and 
an occasional palace whose beauty was not entirely 
hidden by the filth of the lower classes, who now 
inhabit them. 

The great central plaza stands on the site of the 
Aztec teocalli, the pyramid-temple crowned by the 
huge altar where thousands of human victims were 
sacrificed to the monstrous god of war. Later, 
other thousands were sacrificed here to the unholy 
rites of the Inquisition, the last being that devoted 
patriot, Jose Maria Morelos. This part of the city 
is rich in associations with Mexican history. It was 
here the first bullfight came off and the first house 
was built by the Spaniards In 1520. After Mexico 
achieved her Independence from Spain, Agustin 
Iturblde was proclaimed emperor in this plaza; 
here the unfortunate Maximilian was welcomed 
to the country forty years later, and Diaz 
made his triumphal entry soon after the Archduke's 
death. 

Fronting on the plaza is the great cathedral, the 
largest in Mexico, impressive from its size and Its 
massive construction. Sculptured Indian idols and 
the remains of the huge teocalli form the greater 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO 157 

part of its foundations. In one of the little chapels 
we saw the beautiful Murillo, the Virgin of Beth- 
lehem, a sweet Andalusian Madonna and Child that 
is undoubtedly an original by the great master. In 
the seventeenth century many paintings by the fa- 
mous Spanish artists found their way to Mexico to 
adorn the churches and the homes of wealthy mine 
owners. But with the revolutionary period of the 
nineteenth century began the looting that supplied 
the war-chests of the rival chiefs, and many of those 
art treasures were sold to European purchasers. 

Among the old churches of Mexico City were two 
which appeared, on account of the subsidence of the 
soil, to be just ready to topple over into the street, 
although they were hot considered unsafe. The 
Dominican Church of Santo Domingo was the 
headquarters of the Inquisition, and we saw the 
cloister that was the scene of several autos-da-fe. 
Before the Church of San Hipolito we recalled the 
bloody scenes of the Conquest, for it was built on 
the great causeway where six hundred Spaniards 
were killed or wounded in their retreat on the Noche 
Triste. It was on the anniversary of San Hipolito's 
martyrdom that Cortes finally won the victory over 
the Aztecs, and for many years a special mass was 
celebrated here on that day for the Conquistadores 
who fell in the struggle to gain possession of New 
Spain. The Church of San Agustin, now occupied 



158 ODD CORNERS 

by the National Library, delighted us with its im- 
posing fagade. 

Only a short distance from the city is Chapultepec 
— Aztec for Grasshopper Hill — which is surrounded 
by the finest park in Mexico. The castle that crowns 
it was used as the summer residence of the presi- 
dent. It had also been occupied by the Emperor 
Maximilian. Chapultepec is the site, too, of the 
Military Academy, really the West Point of Mex- 
ico. Montezuma's Tree, the largest on the hill, 
undoubtedly stood here when the ill-fated Aztec 
monarch made this his retreat during the summer 
months. We enjoyed the fine view much more than 
the palace itself, which was furnished in Italian 
style but in rather poor taste. 

While in the capital we witnessed our first bull- 
fight, and we also looked in at a gambling den 
where women were smoking huge cigars. As an 
entirely different sort of entertainment, we dined with 
some of the diplomats, whose acquaintance we had 
made in other places. 

We left Mexico City one morning for quaint 
old Cuernavaca, reaching there about noon. Again 
such wonderful scenery ! It was perhaps more beau- 
tiful than the trip from Tampico to San Luis Potosi, 
for the snow-topped volcanoes Popocatepetl and 
Iztaccihuatl were to be seen most of the way. At 
Cuernavaca stood the palace of Cortes, one of the 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO 159 

oldest buildings in Mexico, which was commenced in 
1530 and has only lately been destroyed. Its fine 
arcaded courtyard contained a lovely Spanish gar- 
den. Here the conqueror lived for some time, carry- 
ing on his sugar plantations— indeed, he preferred 
it to any other place in the New World. As the 
town is the capital of the state of Morelos, this 
building was used, when we were there, as the Gov- 
ernment House. The cathedral and a few old 
churches had fine towers and attractive domes. A 
number of stone sculptures, among them a huge 
lizard carved on a rock, probably had an interesting 
history, if we could have known it. 

One could easily spend a day in the fascinating 
Borda Garden, once magnificent and still attractive 
even in its neglected condition. It was laid out by 
a Frenchman who came to Mexico early in the eight- 
eenth century and amassed a fortune in the mines. 
His garden was not only a quiet retreat, but contained 
a great collection of Mexican plants. No wonder it 
was the favorite resort of Maximilian and the Em- 
press Carlotta. We wandered over terraces, through 
pergolas, down shaded, rose-embowered walks, to a 
tower from which we had a glorious view of moun- 
tain and plain. There was Maximilian's Drive, too, 
with its lovely roadside flowers and its glimpses of 
natives making pottery in their front yards, with 
chickens, pigs and children all about. 



i6o ODD CORNERS 

On returning to Mexico City, we shopped and 
rested, and one day took a little boat up the Viga 
Canal to the Chinampas, or Floating Islands. These 
were formed long, long ago by setting networks of 
twigs afloat on the water and covering them with 
earth, to be cultivated as garden plots. They were 
rather disappointing to us, for they floated no 
longer, poplar trees being driven through them like 
piles to keep them fixed, and there were few flowers 
on them. The whole canal was rather smelly but 
picturesque, with flatboats poled along by Indians 
and dug-out canoes in which entire families were 
taking their vegetables to market. 

A trip from Mexico City took us to Puebla, 
Oaxaca and Mitla. We breakfasted in Puebla at a 
little past four, then took a special car on the nar- 
row gauge Mexican Southern Railway for a long day 
of travel. The track ran first through a fair valley, 
with white churches and villages on the mountain- 
sides and green, carefully cultivated fields below, till 
we came to a more arid country. Then, for forty 
miles, it was through a deep canyon with steep, 
precipitous sides sometimes towering to an over- 
whelming height, where there were extraordinary 
cactus growths and strange formations, and then — 
we reached Oaxaca. 

The hotel there was quaint and really Mexican, 
with galleries round a central court, off which were 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO i6i 

our bedrooms. These had floors of brick, vast 
ceilings — all beams — and great doors with padlocks 
— the whole dirty and smelly enough to make it an 
experience. This hotel fronted on a plaza with 
grand trees and luxuriant plants and flowers. Oppo- 
site, on its terrace, stood a church with a carved 
fagade. 

A larger plaza beyond had walks beneath sweet- 
smelling trees that arched overhead, surrounded by 
arcaded buildings. In the center stood a high pa- 
vilion, where one of the best military bands I have 
ever heard was playing. All about, in the shadow 
and the dim light, in groups and alone, with their 
scrapes thrown dramatically about them, covering 
them to their very eyes, and the broad-brimmed, 
mushroom-hke sombreros pulled down over their 
faces, were the silent Mexicans. It seemed strange 
to come to a city that I had never heard of and 
find it many centuries old, with a life so apart, so 
far away, and yet to hear such music and see such 
a scene ! 

Next morning, before daylight, we were off for 
Mitla, with cracking of whips, in a dilapidated ve- 
hicle drawn by mules, two at the wheel and four 
abreast ahead. The early morning was lovely, as 
we drove along the dusty roads, passing the mud- 
wattled villages with their cactus hedges, watching 
the Indians at their occupations, and meeting droves 



i62 ODD CORNERS 

of burros with huge loads and slow processions of 
lumbering ox-carts crawling in to market. 

Our road took us through several interesting 
towns. At Tlacolula, there was a gorgeous chapel 
with splendid silver lamps in a little church where 
we should not have expected anything of the sort. 

It was a long pull over the twenty-five miles to 
Mitla, but we got there at last and after a short 
rest in the pretty patio of the hacienda, went out 
to the ruins. As L. had a letter of introduction to 
Professor Saville, who was making excavations 
there, under his guidance we were among the first 
to enter a lately discovered passage and tomb. 

From a walled court we descended into a strange 
underground chamber in the shape of a cross, with 
walls of cut stone in mosaic patterns. Many Indian 
relics have been unearthed here from time to time, 
and it is believed the old Zapotec kings, who ante- 
dated the Aztecs, buried their treasure in these 
vaults. Arrow-heads and pottery have been found, 
beside gold and silver vessels and gold jewelry, and 
small terra-cotta figures and funeral urns showing 
fine workmanship. The ancient Mexicans had tools 
made of pure copper and shaped the metal into discs 
which they used for money. 

At one end of the court were the massive walls 
and immense columns — more like piers than col- 
umns, for they had neither capital nor pedestal — of 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO 163 

what may have been the palace of king or high 
priest. On the walls of a passageway were remains 
of fresco paintings that reminded me a bit of Pom- 
peii. The Corridor of the Mosaics was built of 
stone mosaics in ornamental patterns, and the pieces 
were so accurately fitted together that in some 
places no mortar was needed to hold them in posi- 
tion. These mosaics, or stone tiles, are the distinc- 
tive ornaments of the Mitla ruins, taking the place 
of the sculptures and bas-reliefs of the prehistoric 
buildings of Chiapas and Yucatan. 

About two miles from these remains, on a pre- 
cipitous hill, accessible from only one side, was the 
stronghold of Mitla, a citadel enclosure surrounded 
by a wall twenty-one feet thick. Within this were 
the remains of dwellings and fortifications, and great 
heaps of stones that were evidently collected for use 
as munitions of war. The place well deserves its 
name — Mitla, '' place of sadness. '* 

We went back to Oaxaca the same day, and on 
the way visited the big cypress tree at Santa Maria 
del Tule, famous as the largest tree in Mexico. This 
giant witnessed the passing of Toltecs, Chichlmecs 
and Aztecs, and the conquest by Spanish Invaders. 
The outstretched arms of twenty-eight persons could 
scarcely meet round the colossal trunk. The drive 
to Oaxaca in the dark was weird, and I was tired 
and felt far away from home. 



i64 ODD CORNERS 

The Pyramid of Cholula, only eight miles from 
Puebla, was rather disappointing, for, although it 
is built of sun-dried bricks and clay, it looks simply 
like a hill with a church on the top. On this pyra- 
mid once stood the temple of Quetzalcoatl, god of 
air, so it is said. Enshrined here was a wonderful 
image of the god, " wearing a miter on his head 
waving with plumes of fire, with a resplendent col- 
lar of gold round his neck, pendants of mosaic tur- 
quoise in his ears, a jeweled scepter in one hand, 
and a shield curiously painted, the emblem of his 
rule over the winds, in the other." 

The mound was there before the Aztecs settled 
the region, and at the time of the Spanish conquest 
it was still the Mecca of the natives, to which pil- 
grims came from all parts of Mexico. The legend 
tells that the pyramid was built by two men of giant 
race, survivors of the great deluge. They intended 
it to reach heaven, but they displeased the gods and 
were destroyed before it was completed. The 
Spaniards razed the temple and built the church on 
its site. 

How wonderful was the sunrise on the distant 
snow-clad volcanoes, seen as we neared Puebla 
once more ! Cold, serene, far away, they stood high 
in relief against the night sky, first bluish, then pink, 
then glistening white, as dawn appeared and finally 
the sun rose and another day was born. And off 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO 165 

on the edge of the world, mysterious, transparent, 
faintly pink, rose the ghost of Orizaba. 

From Puebla to Tlaxcala we took a charming 
little trip by a tram-car drawn by mules through 
picturesque villages with shady plazas and crumbling 
carved churches, by lanes with hedges of organ 
cactus, past adobe huts where we caught glimpses 
of the home life of the people. At the time of the 
Conquest, this was the capital of a native state 
which the Aztec rulers had tried In vain to conquer. 
The brave Tlaxcalans withstood Cortes, but after 
their defeat by the mailed Spaniards, they became 
his faithful allies. Indeed, there were times when 
but for their aid his whole force would have been 
overwhelmed by the Indians. 

Here we walked up the hill to the Santuario de 
Ocotlan, one of the famous shrines of the country. 
The tradition runs that, in order to relieve a scar- 
city of water, the Virgin appeared to an Indian here 
and revealed a miraculous spring. The church 
erected in her honor was a glorious surprise to us 
with its richly carved and gilded altar and the 
chapel enshrining the figure of the Virgin of Ocot- 
lan, who wears a magnificent jeweled crown. Be- 
hind this was a camarin, a circular room full of 
richly wrought tables, chairs, altars, offerings — 
in fact, the whole room itself was carved and 
colored, with Mexican tapestry on the floor and 



i66 ODD CORNERS 

brocade on the walls. The effect was quite over- 
whelming. 

Down the hill to the miraculous spring, across the 
plaza and up a paved and shaded causeway, we 
went, then beneath an arched entrance at one side 
of which was an old bell-tower, to the terrace of an 
ancient monastery. Here stood the old Franciscan 
church, founded in 1521, which contains the first 
pulpit from which Christianity was preached in 
America and the font where the four chiefs of 
Tlaxcala, who were the earliest converts to the new 
faith, were baptized. The handsomely carved cedar 
beams of the roof and some fine pictures interested 
us, and also the view from a little bower of the old 
bull ring and the flat roofs of the town. 

After our return to Mexico City, we decided that, 
after all, it was the strange street scenes that 
most pleased us. There were such picturesque 
throngs, in which were mingled handsome dark- 
eyed women, swarthy Indians with huge peaked 
hats, toreadors in their finery, and gayly uniformed 
soldiers. 

In the late afternoon of our last day in the capi- 
tal, which was Shrove Tuesday, we drove up and 
down the Paseo. Crowds lined the great avenue, 
which was filled with carriages and men riding fine 
horses with silver trimmings; there were enough 
maskers and carnival players, with bands of musi- 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO 167 

clans at every point, to make It quite exciting. Then 
we drove to the station and were attached to the 
seven-thirty mail going north. 

Less than twenty-four hours by train brought us 
to the large, clean city of Guadalajara. On account 
of its perfect climate and healthy situation many of 
the Spanish nobility settled here after the Conquest, 
and the number of pure-blooded descendants of the 
Castilians In the streets was very noticeable. 

In the fine Government Palace Spanish-Moorish 
architecture is effectively blended with Grecian or- 
ders, and the old convent church of Santa Monica 
has an elaborately carved facade. But the chief 
treasure of the city is Murlllo's beautiful Assump- 
tion of the Virgin. During the Peninsular War, when 
Spain was forced to call upon Mexico and her other 
colonies for funds to carry on the campaign against 
Napoleon, Guadalajara responded with a generous 
contribution. Many ornaments from the cathedral 
were converted into coin for the national treasury. 
In grateful recognition of this aid the King of 
Spain ordered this Murillo to be taken from the 
Escorial and presented to the cathedral of the loyal 
city. 

The superb mountains and the magnificent churches 
stand out together in my recollections of Mexico. 
Most of the churches we visited were very fine and 
many contained art treasures. At Guanajuato, we 



i68 ODD CORNERS 

stopped to see one that was built by the offerings 
of the miners, who each day brought up a handful 
of silver toward the cost. 

But the most famous of all these structures and 
most sacred to the Indians of Mexico is that at 
Guadalupe, a few miles from the city of Mexico. 
This church, which has a railing and chandeliers of 
solid silver, enshrines the miraculous picture of 
" Our Lady.'' At the time of our visit an interest- 
ing service was going on. The priests were gor- 
geous in gowns of red and gold, and the music was 
lovely. 

The image of the Virgin, which hangs in a gold 
frame above the high altar, has one of the sweetest 
faces I have ever seen. Over her head and arms 
she has a cloak of blue studded with stars, 
she wears a robe of old rose and upon her 
head a golden crown. In an attitude of prayer she 
stands upon a crescent, below which are the head 
and wings of an angel. It was here we heard the 
pretty legend of this picture: 

An Indian of Guadalupe on his way to mass one 
day heard strains of music so sweet they could only 
have been made by angels, and soon he beheld in a 
burst of radiance the Virgin Mary. She directed 
him to go to the bishop and say that she commanded 
a church to be built on that spot. He obeyed, but 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO 169 

the bishop refused to believe his story unless he 
brought some sign to prove that It was true. A few 
days later the vision was repeated. This time the 
Virgin bade him pick some roses and bring them to 
her; then she took them in her hands, but immedi- 
ately replaced them In his mantle with the command 
that he take them to the bishop. He did so, and 
when the mantle was unfolded a picture of " Our 
Lady " was discovered imprinted upon it. So the 
bishop built the church, and December twelfth, the 
traditional date of the miracle, is a national holiday 
and especially an Indian festival. 

We did not see this festival, but Mrs. O'Shaugh- 
nessy has given a vivid picture of It. After refer- 
ring to the crowds that thronged both church and 
plaza, she says: 

" In the middle aisle were double files of young 
Indian girls, with bright-colored scarfs about their 
shoulders, and strange, high, picturesque-looking 
headdresses of gaudy tissue paper with trimmings 
of gold. They were chanting monotonous minor 
songs, accompanied by a swaying, dance-like move- 
ment of the hips — all most reverent." 

I cannot give a better idea of the charm these 
Mexican churches had for us than by quoting " The 
Mass at Dawn " from the country's greatest 
poet* 

* Luis G. Urbina. 



170 ODD CORNERS 

"Every morn — can you believe it? 
At the advent of the dazzling 
Earliest gleam of virgin brightness, 
From the deep, remote horizon's 
Lapis-lazuli, there issued 
From the architraves and friezes 
Of the lofty Gothic belfry, 
From the pinions of the angels, 
From the walls of chiseled stonework, 
From the niches of the statues, 
Flocks of birds, in endless numbers, 
Chirping, twittering and singing." 

At the time of our visit, Mexico was under the 
rule of Porfirio Diaz. The country was at peace, 
railroads were being built and mines operated, for- 
eign commerce was increasing, and European and 
American capital was developing the resources of the 
country. Law and order prevailed. 

Alas! what a change came. Francisco Madero, 
raising the standard of revolt, compelled the resig- 
nation of Diaz, who fled to France, where he died. 
Madero, however, proved unequal to the situation, 
and his rule soon came to an end. Then Huerta 
joined Felix Diaz, nephew of Porfirio, in insurrec- 
tion against Madero, but later betrayed Felix, too, 
and himself became president. 

Immediately a host of claimants to the office 
sprang up, among whom the names of Carranza and 
Villa have grown very familiar to American ears. 
In the midst of a country laid waste by the bandit 




< 
< 

X 

< 
O 



H 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO 171 

warfare of these chiefs, the one strong arm that 
could In a measure enforce law and preserve order 
was that of Huerta. 

A leading journalist writes : " The record of the 
American In Mexico is one for his country to be 
proud of. He has given the peon a chance ; he has 
helped to build a middle class. Above all he has 
created him Industrially; for apart from increasing 
the wages of the lowest grade of workman, he has 
produced higher grades of work, which before his 
coming were unknown in Mexico, and fitted the 
native to it." 

It was this class of Americans whom our Gov- 
ernment deprived of their only hope of protection 
by its stand against Huerta. When the trouble be- 
tween the United States and Mexico first began, 
Americans did not realize the situation, for little 
or nothing was published in the newspapers. As 
Huerta said of President Wilson, " He has not 
understood," so It was true of them. And it must 
be confessed it is not easy to understand the situa- 
tion. When I asked a clever man who knew the 
question well the Mexican point of view, he an- 
swered, ** Every Mexican will give you a different 
answer." The trouble Is almost entirely in the north. 
The Mexican Indians from different sections, speak- 
ing only dialects, do not know what the fighting is 
all about. They wish to be left alone. 



172 ODD CORNERS 

When Vera Cruz was occupied by our troops, 
the American public was roused to a slight interest 
in the affair, but the developments in International 
relations arising from the European War have ob- 
scured the issues in our neighbor's territory. Finally, 
in the Spring of 191 6, Washington seemed to 
realize the force of John FIske's Indictment when 
he said, " A government touches the lowest point 
of Ignominy when it confesses its inability to pro- 
tect the lives and property of its citizens," and 
United States soldiers were sent to the Mexican 
border. But it was "hesitation war" — as the sit- 
uation at Vera Cruz had been described — over 
again. 

Through miles of desert, covered with sage- 
brush, cactus and sand, over impossible roads, our 
columns had to move on foot, horseback, and by 
motor, while a Mexican railway paralleled their slow 
and costly advance. The food supply was uncer- 
tain. One squadron of regular cavalry went eight 
days on three days' rations, and a colored trooper 
who was asked what he was doing in Mexico re- 
plied, " I dunno, sir, but it seems to me, sir, that 
we's trying to see how many days we can make 
three days' rations last, sir." 

General Funston was responsible for the results 
obtained by this expedition — Funston, who swam 
the Rio Grande, who captured Agulnaldo, who ruled 



A GLIMPSE INTO MEXICO 173 

Vera Cruz not only like an American soldier, but 
like a British administrator, bringing quiet, justice 
and health in the name of his country. He was a 
figure of romance, and an able and fearless general. 

The pursuit of Villa was made unnecessarily dif- 
ficult and dangerous by the refusal to use the rail- 
road. By this and other restrictive mandates the 
success of the expedition was doomed. In conse- 
quence of General Funston's reports to Washing- 
ton that the expedition could not succeed under such 
restrictions, the command was given to General 
Pershing. Owing to no fault of Pershing's, who 
has a fine record, the expedition failed, as Funston 
had prophesied it must. 

But although this so-called " punitive expedition " 
punished no one but its own members, it certainly 
did serve a purpose in helping to awake the coun- 
try to our utter unpreparedness to take part in the 
great war. In our isolation we had been sleeping 
as If drugged by our prosperity. 

After bidding good-by to New Spain, let us cross 
the water for a glimpse of Its mother country, the 
land of the Moor and the hidalgo. 



CHAPTER IX 

MADRID TO MOROCCO 

They have scattered olive branches and rushes on the street, 
And the ladies fling down garlands at the Campeador's feet; 
With tapestry and broidery their balconies between, 
To do his bridal honor, their walls the burghers screen. 

They lead the bulls before them all covered o'er with trappings; 

The little boys pursue them with hootings and with clappings; 

The fool, with cap and bladder, upon his ass goes prancing, 

Amidst troops of captive maidens with bells and cymbals 

dancing." 

Old Spanish Ballad. 

ROAR rises from the Carrera San Hie- 
ronomo. Cries of fakirs, calls of men 
selling papers or lottery tickets, warnings 
of coachmen. Every now and then a band 
goes by, playing in the curious muffled manner of 
the Spanish, with sudden wild bursts of the fanfare 
and the drums. On the corner there is the music 
of the blind guitarists and the singing of a child, 
and a man with a bagpipe which he blows into 
whenever there is a chance of his making himself 
heard. 

The heat is so great that the people walk the 

174 




MADRID TO MOROCCO 175 

streets all night. There Is as much going on at four 
in the morning as at four in the afternoon. All 
day and all night the crowded life of the city passes 
beneath our windows. 

The streets are gay with flags and strings of 
lights. The houses have their balconies hung with 
banners and scarfs of many colors, red and yellow 
predominating. Some families display their coats of 
arms embroidered on great red velvet squares, while 
others hang out rare tapestries. 

Royal carriages without number make their way 
through the throng, with footmen in red stockings 
and coachmen in wide, gold-banded hats, and men 
in uniform, and royal escorts of dragoons for the 
visiting princes. There are guards set in front of 
the palaces where ambassadors are housed. In front 
of the Medina Coeli, where the Austrian archduke 
stops, great footmen in yellow are lolling, to the vast 
delight of the people, and a bugler stands ready to 
do the honors when another ambassador pays his 
visit. 

This is no ordinary holiday. Madrid is making 
ready for the wedding of the King. 

The ceremony was to take place the last day of 
May, and a few days before the King went north in 
his special train to the border to meet his bride, 
the Princess Victoria. All along the route soldiers 
were stationed, and platforms were cleared wherever 



176 ODD CORNERS 

the train stopped, so that no harm might befall her. 
At Irun the King met the royal party and con- 
ducted them to the Pardo Palace, near Madrid, to 
remain for the week before the wedding. Things 
had been brought from other palaces to make the 
place pretty for the Princess, and it had been given 
a thorough cleaning — which it no doubt needed. 

The wedding day was hot and sunny, but bril- 
liantly clear. The procession began to pass our 
windows about half after nine. The street was 
lined with soldiers mounted and on foot, and army 
officers and diplomats in magnificent uniforms drove 
by on their way to the church, and women In beauti- 
ful white dresses, with mantillas, feathers, jewels 
and trains of every color. 

There were two of these processions, one with 
the King and the other with Princess Victoria, and 
both were quite prompt in coming. They moved 
along with spacing and dignity, and everything was 
so well done that even to the republican mind It was 
not in any way absurd. 

Heading the pageant came the fine mounted 
carabinieri with their cocked hats and red plastrons. 
Mounted major domos followed them, reappearing 
at intervals with each escort, and sky-blue lancers, 
and dragoons In great helmets and feathers, and 
heralds in carriages of state with huge coats of 
arms, and trumpeters who every now and then blew 



MADRID TO MOROCCO 177 

blasts on their trumpets. There were, too, the 
" horses of respect," covered with superb trappings 
of richly embroidered velvet and led by splendid 
footmen. 

Then came the great coaches of the grandees with 
gorgeous lamps at the four corners and trappings 
In the colors of the family. Footmen with powdered 
hair and staves walked solemnly at either side. On 
the horses' heads were plumes of vast size and lovely 
hues that waved as they passed, and the harnesses 
were mounted with gold or silver. These carriages 
were drawn by two horses each. 

Following this part of the procession came the 
foreign princes in coaches drawn by four horses, and 
then the members of the Spanish royal family, 
drawn by six. These coaches were even more glo- 
riously painted with armorial bearings and lac- 
quered In colors and gold, and the royalties occupy- 
ing them were brilliantly clad. 

Preceded and followed by a handsome staff and 
escort came the King's great tortoise-shell coach, 
drawn by eight big white horses decked with snowy 
plumes. Alongside walked the gorgeously liveried 
servants and the guard of honor, some of whom 
were so soon to die. Just ahead of It came a lac- 
quered gold coach with eight horses, more splendid 
than any that had gone before. But It was empty — 
the " coach of respect," to be used in case the King's 



178 ODD CORNERS 

carriage should break down. Later on in this event- 
ful day it was destined to be so used. The King was 
greeted with great applause. 

A shorter procession, much like the first, followed 
after a pause of fifteen minutes. At the end of it 
came the Princess Victoria, who was also much 
cheered. 

No words can give any idea of the regal splendor 
of the whole spectacle. There wasn't a single 
tawdry touch, or a tinsel look to suggest the circus, 
as is so often the case with royal progresses nowa- 
days. It must have been quite like this in olden 
times. Each carriage and each man, every horse, 
every trapping, was a study in glorious color. The 
crimsons and canaries, olives and deep reds, ex- 
quisite blues, with deeper shades, mustards and 
pinks, were like those of old tapestries and old 
stuffs, all beautifully subdued. There wasn't a 
garish note. 

After the marriage ceremony had been performed 
at the church, the two processions joined and re- 
turned over the route as one, the King and his 
Queen riding together in the royal coach and bow- 
ing to the right and left amid great cheering. As 
they passed I wondered if they really were happy, 
and what their lives would be. We watched the 
wonderful pageant defile across the square, which 
was all gay with the red and yellow, and turn 



MADRID TO MOROCCO 179 

up the narrow street opposite, the fateful Calle 
Mayor. 

Although the police had been told that there was 
danger of a bomb in the Calle Mayor, the awful 
thing was allowed to happen. A man whose move- 
ments would seem to have been suspicious enough 
threw a bomb from a window that would surely 
have hit its royal mark exactly if it had not struck 
a telegraph wire and burst in air. As it was, it 
killed the footman who was walking within a few 
feet of the King, and the great white horses 
at the pole. It devastated the escort and killed or 
wounded over a hundred of the bystanders. Broken 
glass cut the King's coat, but a medal he was 
wearing saved him from a wound. The Queen's 
dress was spattered with blood, but she was 
unhurt. 

The leaders of the coach were so frightened that 
they ran and dragged the other horses, some of 
them dead or dying, for forty yards before they 
could be stopped. Then the King got out, helping 
the Queen to the empty coach of respect ahead. 
Some English secretaries, who had come back from 
the ceremony and were watching the procession 
from a balcony, came down and did what they could 
to help. The King talked incessantly, but the 
Queen said not a word. She told someone after- 
ward that her first thought, as she saw the bomb 



i8o ODD CORNERS 

explode and blow a soldier to pieces, was, " That 
is meant for me. Will it kill me ? " Both were very 
pale. Poor, innocent creatures — she so young and 
pretty, and he so plucky and genial! 

When they reached the palace, it is said, he put his 
arms about her and kissed her, and cried, " God 
save my Queen ! " It is the custom for the royal 
family, when one of them has escaped some dan- 
ger, to go to a certain church and give thanks, but 
the Queen absolutely refused to go, and took to 
her bed and cried. 

Next morning I heard a great commotion outside 
and rushed to the balcony. There were the King 
and Queen going slowly by in an auto, almost un- 
accompanied, to visit the wounded in the hospital. 
The people were so excited and enthusiastic that 
they climbed onto the car. Later in the day the 
brave young King walked through the streets alone, 
amid great cheers. But everybody was on edge ; 
there were several panics over nothing at all — an 
orange tossed from a balcony, or a signboard that 
caught fire. 

Saturday was the date set for the court ball and 
the bullfight in honor of the King's wedding. The 
ball was turned into a reception, but the rest of 
the program was carried out. The people were 
eager to see their young sovereigns again, and their 
curiosity was gratified, for the royal family — except 




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o 

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of 
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MADRID TO MOROCCO i8i 

the English members — drove in semi-state to Los 
Toros. 

The scene was a gay one. The royalties in open 
landaus with four horses and outriders were fol- 
lowed by carriages with foreign princes and diplo- 
mats. The ladies wore their best white lace mantil- 
las and high shell combs with carnations of the na- 
tional colors, red and yellow. The bull ring became 
gay as a blossoming garden. No one could help 
being keenly alive to the beauty of the scene. 

Since we had the good luck to have places in an 
upper box we could watch the young Queen take her 
seat by the King's side in the royal enclosure nearby, 
and noticed that as she waved the white scarf for 
the bullfight to begin her self-possession never 
failed. 

Three superb enameled coaches drove into the 
ring, bearing grandees of Spain who alighted before 
the King and Queen, and with low bows presented 
other grandees dressed as knights of old. After 
them came swaggering toreros in costumes of bril- 
liant colors, then the matadors, cappas, picadors, 
banderlUeros and mule drivers, all bowing low as 
they passed. A murmur of admiration rose from 
the crowd, for it was a wonderful sight. Nothing 
like It had been seen for generations; It was the 
splendor of Charles the Fifth. 

The first bullfight was given in old Spanish style. 



i82 ODD CORNERS 

The pen opened and a wild black bull came proudly 
into the ring amid cheers. Two grandees dressed 
as knights and riding spirited horses circled 
round him and stuck in slight picks which broke 
halfway and were left in his shoulder. It was so 
skillfully done that the bull's horns never struck the 
lively horses, and the bull, poor beast, soon sank 
upon his knees in exhaustion. He had been teased 
and worried till his proud spirit was broken. Then, 
with one adroit lunge of the matador's sword, he 
fell dead, and the populace applauded loudly. 

The second bullfight was in the fashion of today. 
The bull, entering with a mad rush, was easily en- 
ticed by a cappa toward a poor, decrepit horse 
stupefied with morphine and blindfolded. As the 
bull charged, the picador thrust his pick into the 
animal's shoulder. The enraged creature in a frenzy 
drove his sharp horns again and again into the miser- 
able horse till it fell writhing to earth. 

This was arranged to happen directly in front 
of the royal box. It was the Queen's first expe- 
rience of a bullfight, and she witnessed it with ap- 
parent calmness, never even changing color. She 
must not flinch. On guard before this alien race, 
she again showed her Anglo-Saxon self-control as 
nervelessly as when the terrible bomb was thrown. 

No firecrackers were needed for this bull. Amid 
great cheering he chased the toreros till they were 



MADRID TO MOROCCO 183 

forced to jump over the barrier. He killed five horses 
in his fury. Then he became exhausted and his end 
was near. Up came a matador and slew him with 
one stroke of his sword. 

The rest we did not see, for we left, having had 
enough. 

The night after the bullfight came the court re- 
ception. Except the palace in Petrograd, the one 
in Madrid is supposed to be the finest in the world. 
It is an enormous place, large rooms, marble floors, 
brocade on the walls and painted ceilings. One 
room had a very decorative ceiling in porcelain. 
There were many pictures, mostly by Goya. The 
ballroom had fine tapestries in gold and silver thread 
set in the wall; in three adjoining rooms some were 
hung as we had never seen any before, overlapping 
each other and looped back at the doors and win- 
dows. They were wrought long ago by Flemish 
artists especially for Spain. There are supposed to 
be seven miles of them stored away in the palace, 
a few being taken out at a time for special occasions 
like this. 

The King and Queen received the diplomats in 
the throne room, which is all red and gold. Then 
they walked through the other rooms, stopping 
sometimes to talk with friends. Ahead of them 
were the Spanish royal family, the Queen's mother, 
the Prince and Princess of Wales, and some gran- 



1 84 ODD CORNERS 

dees. After catching a glimpse of the procession 
we went back to the tapestry room, in which we 
were much interested, and where there were only 
two or three others besides ourselves. Suddenly, to 
our surprise, the royalties came marching through 
again, so we had a good bow from the bridal couple 
all to ourselves. 

By far the most beautiful of the ceremonies con- 
nected with the wedding was the high mass, which 
was celebrated in the royal chapel of the palace. 
But even the special ambassadors did not see it, for 
only the King and his court and the foreign princes 
were permitted to attend. For all that, we saw the 
high mass! 

Our diminutive friend Antonio, who seemed able 
to do many things, hurried us through the crowd 
that thronged the great galleries of the courtyard 
outside. Tagging onto the coat tails of some grand 
official, we were passed through guarded doors and 
up back ways, mounting steep service stairways, till 
we came to a large room directly over the high 
altar of the royal chapel. There, through a grille, 
we could look on in comfort at the whole ceremony, 
while sweet incense rose from the burners below to 
delight our senses. 

The chapel was a vast octagonal hall, very lofty 
and stately, rich with marbles and gold and fres- 
coes. Opposite the deep chairs of the cardinals rose 



MADRID TO MOROCCO 185 

the royal throne with the seats for the infantas and 
grandees of Spain nearby. On the other side were 
benches for the officials and suites of the court. The 
suites of the foreign princes stood in an enclosure, 
while the princes themselves sat in boxes which 
opened into the chapel as in a theater. Because the 
Queen Mother was not of Spanish blood she, too, 
occupied a box, and with her — in pale blue satin — 
sat the Princess of Wales, with other guests. 

The halberdiers took up their stations. The only 
movement during the whole ceremony which was not 
devotional was the changing of these men, who 
stood like statues till they were on the point of faint- 
ing. The doors were opened, and we could see the 
crowds in the gallery outside. Through them came 
slowly in procession a train of gentlemen-in-waiting 
and chamberlains, all in gorgeous dress. As each 
passed before the altar he bowed and crossed 
himself, then turned and bowed to the Queen 
Mother in her box, and took his place on the 
benches. 

Following them came three cardinals in their 
wonderful red robes, with their attendants, and they 
genuflexed and crossed and bowed. The King and 
Queen entered next, taking their places on the mag- 
nificently embroidered throne, the infantas of Spain 
following. Then came another procession, this 
time with many ladies in white mantillas and beau- 



1 86 ODD CORNERS 

tiful dresses of pale yellows and blues; they rever- 
enced first the cross, then the King and Queen, the 
Infantas and the Queen Mother. The chapel was 
filled with a blaze of color as they took their 
seats. 

After the mass there was a Te Deum in recogni- 
tion of the King's escape from the bomb. The 
orchestra for the occasion was fine, and the singing 
almost divine. The King performed all the devo- 
tions with much pomp, the Queen In her new re- 
ligion following. It was one of the most perfect 
ceremonials I have ever seen. Before It was quite 
over we went down and were admitted to the sac- 
risty, which had windows overlooking the galleries, 
so we saw the whole procession once more as it left 
the chapel. 

A church service In Spain Is always like stepping 
back into the Middle Ages. They say the Spanish 
are the most eloquent of all the Catholic clergy, and 
that Castilian Is really the only language in which 
to address God. 

A few weeks before going back to Madrid for 
the King's wedding we had been in Seville for the 
celebration of Holy Week. Those wonderful pro- 
cessions ! There is nothing like them anywhere else 
in the world. They are made up of floats belonging 
to different churches and societies whose members 
walk with them. Companies of Penitentes adopt 



MADRID TO MOROCCO 187 

dominos of some distinctive color with high pointed 
hats from which long visors fall over the face and 
form a mask. Sometimes long trains are worn 
which are allowed to drag on the ground when pass- 
ing the royal box. 

The floats are from ten to twenty feet long and 
each one is borne by a score of men walking be- 
neath. These men wear turbans so long that they 
form a sort of padding for the shoulders, where the 
weight of the float falls. The procession moves 
very slowly, for the reason that they can only march 
about a hundred yards without stopping to rest. 
Besides being attended by the members of its own 
organization, each float is also accompanied by sol- 
diers and a band. These soldiers are small, but 
make a good appearance. The costumes of the 
members vary, now black velvet, or purple, or blue 
and white, or — like the members of the butcher so- 
ciety — those of Roman soldiers. Some were doing 
public penance for their sins. Several girls took 
part in the procession we saw, one of them dressed 
as St. Veronica, with bare feet and long hair falling 
over her brown robe. 

There were many figures of the Virgin, each on 
its own float and dressed in a superb robe of red, 
black or purple velvet with a long train embroid- 
ered in gold or silver. They were carved from 
wood and had painted faces and real hair. From 



1 88 ODD CORNERS 

neck to waist they were bedecked with wonderful 
jewels, and wore crowns of real gems and rings and 
bracelets galore, and each one carried daintily a lace 
handkerchief! In front of them was a perfect forest 
of tall candles and at either corner a silver lamp. 
Often the base of the float was of silver, too. Even 
while peasants were starving, thirty thousand dol- 
lars was easily raised to buy a diamond crown for a 
wooden Virgin. 

The societies are composed of poor as well as 
rich members, of course. The cigarette factory girls' 
float, which carried a Virgin — like most of the others 
— was the most popular in the procession. The 
King left his box and, with his suite in uniform at 
his heels, joined the group and marched with them. 
This caused much cheering, for he was very popu- 
lar and this was his first visit to Seville. 

It was very gay that afternoon on the stand 
where the young monarch sat. All the seats were 
taken, young men were visiting the boxes, and much 
flirting was going on. Most of the women were 
dressed in black brocade with black mantilla, but 
wore bright roses in their hair and a gayly colored 
petticoat, and many jewels. 

Later that same afternoon we went to the cathe- 
dral to see the ceremony of the washing of the feet. 
Twelve men from the poorhouse had been selected, 
bathed, and given new suits for the occasion. They 



MADRID TO MOROCCO 189 

sat on a platform, each with a towel over his shoul- 
der. The boot and stocking were taken from one 
foot, which was dipped in a basin that a priest car- 
ried; this priest touched the foot with the towel and 
then the bishop kissed it. The robes of the bishop 
and canons were very handsome, and there was 
much incense. 

Late In the evening the beautiful Miserere was 
sung very impressively in the cathedral, which was 
almost dark, lighted only by candles here and there, 
and filled with crowds of worshipers. The brilliantly 
lighted floats were carried through the dim aisles, 
the procession lasting till four or live in the morning, 
making a remarkable scene, never to be forgotten. 
We went home as the sun was rising, feeling very 
serious and religious. 

On Wednesday of Holy Week occurs the service 
of the rending of the great white veil behind the 
high altar, to symbolize the rending of the veil of 
the Temple at the time of the crucifixion. Those of 
us who were not fortunate enough to have hired 
chairs stood during the ceremonies. Before us, and 
between us and the high altar, was a low railing 
with a great golden gate; at either side and in the 
center were three pulpits. Behind us another 
golden gate led into the enclosed choir which is 
found only in Spain. Three priests mounted into 
the pulpits and chanted, each in turn. 



I90 ODD CORNERS 

The service of the rending of the black veil is 
held on Saturday. At this ceremony there is a 
sound as of thunder, and the veil parts in the center 
and disappears — this is perhaps the most impressive 
of all the services of Holy Week. 

During Thursday and Friday of this week no 
carriage was allowed in the streets. We were out 
in ours a few minutes longer than we should have 
been, for no one had told us about the custom, and 
in consequence received a message from the governor 
and were obliged to pay a fine. 

Thursday morning the King, with his mother and 
sister and a suite and guard, walked through the 
streets and prayed before the Virgin at various 
churches. 

A bullfight was to have taken place on Easter 
Sunday, but did not because the picadors struck. A 
law had been passed forbidding them to use such 
cruel picks. This made it more dangerous for 
them, since the bull did not tire so quickly, and it 
also resulted in the death of more horses. The 
matter was finally arranged, and the fight came off 
the following Tuesday. The first bull killed only 
one horse and was not considered *' brave.'* We 
didn't stay for any more. 

Before leaving for Granada and farther south 
we had a glimpse of the Alcazar, the famous old 
Moorish palace where the King stays when he is in 



MADRID TO MOROCCO 191 

town. It was in good condition and very beautiful 
outside, but seldom used. Our consul took us through 
the royal apartment, the King having just left for 
Madrid. The furniture was old and in bad taste, 
and the pictures of no value — in fact, the rooms re- 
minded one of a shabby hotel. In the lovely tropical 
garden, where the roses were in bloom, they 
showed us a tree supposed to have been planted 
by Columbus. 

Everyone who goes to Spain goes to Granada, so 
I suppose I must say a word about it, although we 
have read so much. The cathedral with its tombs ot 
Ferdinand and Isabella was disappointing, but I 
think the garden of the Generalife, the summer pal- 
ace of the Moorish kings, the most enchanting place 
in the world. It is a series of gardens on a hillside, 
with fountains and orange trees and great climbing 
roses, and flight after flight of stone steps with 
water flowing down a runnel in the top of the 
balustrades. From the highest point one has a 
superb view of lofty snow mountains and the luxu- 
riant plain, and looks down upon the huge walls 
and towers of the Alhambra fortifications on a hill 
below. Within the walls are hotels and dwellings, 
and the imposing though unfinished palace of Charles 
the Fifth. 

There is also the old Moorish palace of the Al- 
hambra, which is considered one of the wonders of 



192 ODD CORNERS 

the world. It Is indeed a marvel of beautiful work 
in plaster with ceilings of wood inlaid with ivory and 
mother-of-pearl, or of stalactite formation in plaster. 
As the Mohammedan religion forbids the repre- 
sentation of man or beast, the designs are prin- 
cipally composed of letters. The building was in 
fairly good condition, for it was being restored In 
many places. The baths of the sultan are hand- 
some, but not so fine as some In India. 

The marriage tower was kept by two women 
whose parents had lived there before them till they 
were struck by lightning and killed. The sisters are 
obliged to ring the bell every hour during the night, 
for the irrigation of the fields Is regulated by It. 

A familiar person about the hotel and the Alham- 
bra grounds Is the old king of the gypsies, a pic- 
turesque figure in his quaint costume. Many of 
his people live not far away In caves dug out of 
ledges of rock, not wandering as most gypsies do, 
but staying there from one generation to another. 
Their rooms are whitewashed and kept very clean, 
with brass dishes shining on the walls. A garrulous 
old woman whose palm I had crossed with silver 
told my fortune. With mysterious signs she offered 
me some well worn cards to cut and bade me make 
a wish. Then she herself cut and recut the cards 
and laid them out, while the bold, hard-faced gypsy 
girls and the lying, thieving gypsy men stood 




Camkl Caravan at i^AxtutR 



MADRID TO MOROCCO 193 

nearby to listen. It was the usual story — a dark 
man, danger (the card with the dagger), adventure 
(the card with the lantern) and money, with the bag 
of gold. But with the bright pans gleaming on the 
walls and reflecting the firelight on those swarthy 
faces with the flashing black eyes and sinister 
glances, it made a weird sight that I have not for- 
gotten. 

We left Granada and the beautiful snow moun- 
tains and went down to the plain, where the poppies 
were In bloom. This is the land of oranges, olives, 
corn and grapes, and we passed fields where the 
black bulls that were being raised for Los Toros 
were pastured. On the way to Gibraltar there 
were groves of cork oaks, their trunks showing or- 
ange where the bark had been stripped off. 

As we steamed across the broad straits, the moun- 
tains on the coast of Africa changed from pale blue to 
gray and brown and green. The little walled town 
of Tarifa, the last stand of the Moors, slipped past 
us, while away In the distance Cape Trafalgar 
stretched out into the Atlantic. 

At first glimpse Tangier was disappointing — just 
a town of white houses piled up on the hillside. But 
when we had had the excitement of landing, with 
shouting Moors and Berbers and what-nots fight- 
ing for our luggage, and had passed the Water 
Gate into the winding ways and got Into the squalor 



194 ODD CORNERS 

and rags — never have I seen such rags as in 
Tangier! — we began to realize that it had the at- 
mosphere and charm of the East. 

From the terrace of our hotel outside the wails 
we could look out upon the great, busy market with 
all its life and bustle. People streamed past like 
ants, with here and there, rising above them, the fine 
figure of a horseman all enveloped in his burnous 
and riding his red-saddled Arab. Crowds of people 
sat on the ground about a story-teller, who also 
fenced with sticks for the amusement of his 
patrons. Donkeys stood patiently by, waiting for 
the loads of grass on their backs to be sold. Women, 
too, were beasts of burden, for many of them bore 
bundles of sticks which they had brought into the 
city from miles away and were waiting to sell. 
Under cover, we heard, there was still the buying 
and selling of slaves. 

The different sects of Mohammedans with their 
music, and their flying flags of yellow or green-and- 
yellow, the tomb of a local saint in the center of the 
square with its rag of red flag, the cemetery below, 
where miserable little processions passed in and out 
all day long, gave us always something to look at. 
Then there were the beggars, who seemed to make 
the bridges their special haunt — dreadful creatures, 
many of them blind and all in rags. Some had had 
their eyes put out by their masters for stealing. 



MADRID TO MOROCCO 195 

In a small whitewashed hut sat RaisuH's judge in 
summary court with gesticulating crowds forever 
quarreling before the door. All disputes in his dis- 
trict were taken to this judge in the market place. 
Raisuli seemed to be a very powerful and much 
dreaded man. He had two enemies shot while we 
were in Tangier, and it caused a lot of excitement, 
making it dangerous for foreigners to go far out- 
side the city. All the legations were in his district, 
and the friends of the men whom he had killed were 
anxious to capture a foreign diplomat and hold him 
till they were given Raisuli in exchange. 

Stories of residents in Tangier made us realize 
that we were within the sway of Oriental justice. 
Here the sultans and bashaws and caids ruled un- 
disturbed and their will was law. All the legations 
could do In those days was to try to keep out of 
trouble. The situation was all the wilder because 
everyone In Tangier knew that so many powers were 
hungering for it that no one would give way to 
another. The squabble at Algeclras had made 
them realize their independence of foreigners and 
their ability to fight among themselves as they 
pleased, and to treat foreigners as they chose. 

The streets of the city were narrow and dirty, 
and most of the people one saw were men. Women 
of the better class never go out except on Fridays, 
when they may visit other women, and on the one 



196 ODD CORNERS 

day In the year when they go to the mosque. The 
houses are white and are much like those of Span- 
iards, with a court in the center. The doorway of 
a Moorish house is closed only by curtains, but 
when the owner wishes privacy he leaves a slipper 
outside. Men have been known to wall up the door 
on going away for several months, leaving their 
wives and servants with food inside. They told us 
that in Fez, the capital of Morocco, no one was al- 
lowed to sell or rent a house to a missionary, and 
that one man who did so had been crucified. 

A man can have four wives and as many slave 
women as he can afford. He can divorce any one 
of his wives at any time by giving her back the 
amount of money she came to him with, and she 
can marry again. The husband may pick out any 
child of any wife to succeed him. 

Wives are supposed to cook all the food for their 
husband, to make his clothes and grow fat. Coun- 
try women have more freedom than those in cities, 
for they are obliged to work outdoors, and in that 
way they meet men and marry the one they care 
for. In the wedding ceremony they must lift the 
veil, and if they are being married to someone they 
do not like they can refuse to lift it. 

The Shereef of Wazzan married an English 
woman who was governess in the family of Mr. 
Perdicaris. The Shereef, who was the son of a 



MADRID TO MOROCCO 197 

black slave, asked if a daughter of his could be 
taught by the English woman, and so came to know 
and love her. Mrs. Perdicaris sent the governess 
back to England to her parents, hoping to prevent 
the marriage, but the Shereef sent to ask them for 
their daughter's hand, promising to divorce the three 
wives he already had. The girl returned to Morocco 
and married him. Three years later Mrs. Perdicaris 
had a letter from her saying that she was being 
slowly poisoned, and begging for help. Mrs. 
Perdicaris went to the English minister, who sent 
word to the Shereef that his wife must be given up 
to them at once, alive. So she was, and at the time 
we were there lived in a nice house with one of her 
sons, who had married a Moorish woman. The 
Shereef died soon after and she now points to his 
photographs with much pride. 

Morocco Is the land of presents. If you admire 
anything it will probably be given to you, but — a 
gift of equal value Is expected In return. The sultan 
always gives a foreign minister a horse and saddle 
or a carpet, and swords or daggers to the secre- 
taries of legation. 

An American whom we met had been to Fez, 
which is a four to six days' journey from Tangier. 
The Sultan of Morocco, who lived there, had taken 
a fancy to him and presented him with a mule and 
a saddle of red velvet and gold, and also with a 



198 ODD CORNERS 

" holy " horse which had been to Mecca. He told 
us that the natives used to come to see it, and kiss 
it, and it was always the first to be fed. On the 
other hand, the Sultan happening to admire the 
American's riding crop, took it and said, " This is 
a nice one. I will keep it." A cigarette case and 
other things went the same way. Once when they 
were riding together the American chanced to ad- 
mire a house they were passing. That night the 
Sultan bought it for him! 

Early one evening as we stood in a window over- 
looking Tangier there was a report of a gun from 
the mosque. This was followed by the wildest 
fusillade all over the town, from roof tops and from 
the midst of the crowd in the market below our 
windows. There was smoke everywhere, and we 
could hear the whiz of bullets. The noise lasted 
for some time, and we were much relieved later to 
learn that it was not a riot but simply a celebration 
in honor of the new moon, which was specially wel- 
come this month because Mohammed's birthday 
occurred then. 

After dinner one night in the consul's garden 
some native musicians grouped themselves against 
a wall beneath some vines, looking very picturesque 
in the dim lantern light. A flute-player reeled off 
the wild music of the land, and the others played 
their quaint instruments. Among the tunes they 



MADRID TO MOROCCO 199 

gave us was the old Lament of the Fall of Granada, 
which tells the grief of the Moors at being driven 
from their love in Spain. This reminded us of 
something we had heard, that the Moors of today 
still treasure the keys of the house in Granada which 
their ancestors left four hundred years ago, never 
to see again. 



CHAPTER X 



EASTWARD BOUND 




T seemed a wonder of wonders when L. 
managed to get us a private audience 
with Pope Leo XIII, who was then a 
very old man, for it was not such a sim- 
ple matter to arrange. First, Monseigneur Stoner 
called on us. He was of a noble English family, 
and L. had known him before, so they talked things 
over. Following this we were asked to call on 
Cardinal Perrochi, who proved to be a fat, jolly 
old soul, clad in a long purple robe, with a cross 
about his neck and a cardinaPs ring with a dark 
stone set in diamonds. He spoke very bad French, 
for the most part about Italy and art, but as a re- 
sult of our fifteen minutes' chat with him we soon 
after received a notice to be at the Vatican at ten 
o'clock one Sunday morning. 

So L. in evening dress and I in black with a long 
black lace veil hanging from the back of my head, 
and wearing all my pearls and diamonds, started 
forth in a closed carriage. It is the custom to dress 
without color, and to put on jewels in honor of the 

200 



EASTWARD BOUND 201 

pontiff — but they, too, must be without color. After 
driving through the vast courts of the Vatican In the 
shadow of mighty St. Peter's, we climbed endless 
stone steps, passing the Swiss guard stationed along 
the way. They wore the striking uniforms designed 
by Michael Angelo — caps and stockings striped 
with yellow and black, coats and knee breeches 
slashed with red. Men In red brocade ushered 
us through a series of rooms that were frescoed 
and hung with fine tapestries, but almost empty of 
furniture. 

While waiting In an anteroom we were much 
interested in several priests who flitted through, 
bearing trays with rosaries and rellques. They all 
seemed greatly excited; plainly, something had gone 
wrong. As they were hovering about and whisper- 
ing together, two men in long purple robes came In 
and said that the Pope wanted his valet, so off they 
all went in a hurry to search for him. Not long 
afterward we were ushered in, and before I knew 
it were in the presence of Leo XIII. 

The wonderful old man was sitting at the end of 
a small room on his throne of red and gold, wear- 
ing a white robe and skullcap. He beckoned us to 
come nearer and we knelt before him, kissing his 
hand. He asked us to sit, but we replied that we 
would rather kneel. His hand was tied up In a 
handkerchief— we fancied because he didn't want 



202 ODD CORNERS 

Protestants to touch the ring which Catholics kiss. 
(They also kiss his foot.) 

His eyes were dark and piercing, his nose deli- 
cately aquiline, his mouth thin-lipped and straight. 
In spite of his eighty-eight years his mind was per- 
fectly clear. He talked in exquisite French about 
his convents in America, the college in Washington, 
the Spanish-American War and the trip that we had 
planned to India. 

After we had conversed a while he placed his 
hand on my head and blessed us and wished us hap- 
piness. For a moment he tottered but did not fall, 
and I realized in a flash that when the valet was 
sent for, before our entrance, he had probably 
fainted — perhaps he had fallen and hurt his hand. 
That would explain the troubled behavior of the 
priests. 

Backing to the end of the room we knelt again. 
After L. and I had gone out we found that the 
little white bag of money had been forgotten — every- 
one who goes to see him makes him a pres- 
ent of some kind. So we sent it in by one of his 
servants, who came back and thanked us. On 
through the rooms, and down the steps to the car- 
riage, and our visit to the Pope was over. 

This, however, was not the first time I had seen 
Leo XIII, for two years before I had attended a 
ceremony at the Vatican with several other women. 




fin 



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EASTWARD BOUND 203 

All the ladles wore black dresses and black lace 
veils then, too, and the men were in evening dress, 
though it was morning. We arrived at eight 
o'clock and had to stand for three hours. But it 
was a glorious sight, for the Knights of Malta, 
the ambassadors of the Vatican, the members of 
the household, the chamberlains, cardinals, bishops, 
canons of St. Peter's and so on, were all there, 
some of them in magnificent costumes. The Pope 
came in his gestatorlal chair borne by six men. 
He wore a robe of white and gold brocade and the 
famous triple crown; on his hands were white silk 
mitts and his diamond rings. The gold miter given 
him by Emperor William and the white ostrich 
fans were carried before him. 

One afternoon not long after our audience, L. 
and I left Rome for Naples, where we went aboard 
ship, bag and baggage, bound for the Holy Land 
and India. It was after dark v/hen the boat 
sailed, leaving behind the long line of lights that 
stretches from Posilippo to Naples and Castel- 
lamare, while old Vesuvius glowed red hot in 
the sky as we slipped out between the Point and 
Capri. 

Next morning we were surprised to find ourselves 
lying at anchor at Messina. The reason for this 
strange and unexpected event was the presence on 
board of Princess Henry, the German Emperor's 



204 ODD CORNERS 

sister-in-law, who was going out to join her husband, 
at that time in command of the Eastern squadron. 
The Emperor and Empress were on their famous 
yacht, the Hohenzollern, and they wished to come 
aboard our steamer to say good-by to Her High- 
ness. What a glorious setting for the little parade 
those beautiful mountains of Sicily made, with the 
town along the edge of the sparkling blue sea, and 
the hills of Italy on the other side ! 

The imperial sixteen-oared barge, in blue and 
gold, came toward us across the still water, escorted 
by three steam launches. Besides the Emperor and 
Empress came a lady-in-waiting and Baron von 
Biilow, the latter covered with gold braid and wear- 
ing a sword, though the imperial couple themselves 
wore simple dark blue yachting costumes. The 
captain received them at the gangway and there were 
music and cheering, at which they bowed left and 
right, then disappeared into a cabin. Later they 
were shown over the ship and the Kaiserin took 
snapshots with a kodak; they both kissed the 
Princess on either cheek, and finally floated off 
again in their barge while the band played the 
*' Wacht am Rhein " and handkerchiefs waved them 
a good-by. 

Our engines began to move, the ship trembled, 
and we were off once more. Two days of Mediter- 
ranean weather followed, each of them as bad as 



EASTWARD BOUND 205 

possible. Changing boats at Port Said, we reached 
Jaffa, where there was quite a heavy swell on. But 
they hurried us off in a rowboat and landed us in 
the surf, which was rather exciting. 

Sightseeing began at once. I never saw anything 
like the streets of Jaffa, what with mud, orange peel 
and dead cats. The population of the town was half 
Syrian, the remainder one-fourth each of Jews and 
Christians. The story of Jonah and the whale is 
supposed to have been located somewhere in the 
vicinity, also the Greek myth of Perseus and An- 
dromeda. The house of Simon the Tanner, where 
Peter stayed, was owned by a Mohammedan at the 
time I was there. 

There is now a railroad running from Jaffa to 
Jerusalem, but we had to drive the forty-one miles 
In a carriage, which gave a better opportunity to 
see the points of interest along the way. There 
were many of them, too, for numerous events both 
in Old and New Testament history took place in this 
region. For instance, there was the spot where 
Peter is supposed to have restored the charitable 
Tabitha to life, and the one where Samson de- 
stroyed the crops of the Philistines. All good peo- 
ple who know the Bible will tell you that Samson 
was betrothed to a woman who chose to marry a 
Philistine instead, and by way of revenge for 
the slight he caught several hundred foxes, tied 



2o6 ODD CORNERS 

their tails together in pairs, stuck a lighted torch 
between each couple and set them loose in the grain 
fields of the Philistines. Then someone pointed out 
a place where they assured us Joshua had com- 
manded the sun to " stand still upon Gibeon,'* and 
the moon " in the valley of Ajalon," in order that 
he might finish his slaughter of the tribes of the 
Amorites; while the tribes were fleeing there came 
a hailstorm — " for it was the will of God " — and 
the five kings of the Amorites hid in a cave where 
Joshua found and slew them. 

For all it is so rich in history, this is a barren 
land, for the soil is so poor that it can bear only 
a few olive trees. The natives were picturesque' 
enough, though, in their sheepskin coats, and the 
fierce-looking Bedouins were dark and handsome; 
with their shawls thrown over their heads they 
looked the brigands that no doubt many of them 
were. 

In Jerusalem our dragoman, or guide, was an 
agreeable young chap called John for the con- 
venience of travelers. But most of what he was 
able to show us was disappointing and un-Christian, 
for lying, deceit and imposture were encountered 
at every turn. You could hardly believe anything 
you heard, so much of it was certainly untrue. At 
the entrance to the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, 
for instance, was a long stone which people were 



EASTWARD BOUND 207 

kissing and praying before because they were told 
that it was the stone on which Christ was laid. But 
the " real " stone had long since been worn away 
and this one put in its place. We were also shown, 
in perfect good faith, a hole in a wall where the 
skull of Adam was kept, and some of the clay out 
of which he had been made ! 

One entered the Church of the Holy Sepulchre 
through a small door cut in the rock. Inside was 
the Holy Sepulchre, which is of marble; candles 
were burning before it, and a Mohammedan stood 
guard. The key of the church was also kept by 
Mohammedans because there was so much strife 
among the Christian sects for the privilege ! It was 
here, according to the Empress Helena, mother of 
Constantine, that the crucifixion took place. Owing 
to her great interest in the holy places, the Greek 
Church predominates in Jerusalem, though there is 
much rivalry between that body and the Church of 
Rome. 

Outside the walls of the church were shown the 
tombs of the Virgin and of Joseph and Anne. Near 
the city was the much-debated site of the Garden 
of Gethsemane, then in the hands of Franciscan 
monks, with a grotto where Peter, John and James 
were said to have fallen asleep during the " agony 
in the garden." The thirty pieces of silver which 
Judas received for the betrayal of his Lord were 



208 ODD CORNERS 

used to buy the potter's field, the " field of blood " 
where paupers were burled. 

In a cemetery there were tombs cut from the 
solid rock and arranged in a sort of amphitheater, 
with stone steps and seats for the mourners and a 
large cistern for collecting rain water to wash the 
dead. The tomb of Absalom the son of David 
was In the valley of Jehoshaphat, while not far 
off was the hill where Solomon offered sacrifices 
from which the blood ran Into the brook Kedron, 
and the Pool of Siloam, where the blind man 
washed his eyes at Christ's command and received 
his sight. 

Our day ended with coffee in a Mohammedan 
cafe, where of course there were no other women, 
so the men looked at us with much curiosity. We 
tried to smoke the hubble-bubble, which had cold 
water in it and was almost tasteless. 

According to the Greek Church, the fifth of 
January was Christmas eve. There was a ceremony 
at Bethlehem to which we went, passing on the way 
the tree where Judas hanged himself, the well of 
the Three Magi, and the tomb of Rachel, for whom 
Jacob served seven years. Bethlehem turned out 
to be a hard-working village, largely dependent on 
the sale of rosaries for its living. The women 
there had a very pretty headdress, consisting of a 
high red cap with gold pieces sewed on in front, 




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EASTWARD BOUND 209 

these being the real money which formed their 
dowry. 

The little church was built In the fourth century 
by Constantlne over the manger where Christ was 
born — the undisputed place, they say. The manger 
was to be seen, at any rate. The door was so small 
that one fairly had to crawl through it, as a meas- 
ure of protection against the Mohammedans. Pil- 
grims kept arriving — Russians, for the most part; 
they had come from great distances and wore high 
boots and carried large sticks. The church was 
crowded with worshipers. 

After the crowd had assembled, a unique proces- 
sion began. Eight Greek priests in robes of white 
and gold, bearing ikons, books and Incense, came 
from the church to meet the Patriarch, who arrived 
in a carriage preceded by horsemen. A carpet had 
been laid down on the road for his use, and he 
descended from the carriage upon it — a handsome 
man, with a black robe and high cap and a long 
black beard. After the priests had welcomed him 
they clad him In a garment of purple, and then with 
a staff In one hand and a cross in the other he 
blessed the people. The priests headed the pro- 
cession back to the church, swinging before him 
censers which filled the air with sweet perfume. 

A few days after this occasion we set off on horse- 
back for Jericho, and had not gone far when a 



210 ODD CORNERS 

Bedouin with a big gun over his shoulder and a 
knife in his belt joined us. There had been a ques- 
tion as to the wisdom of our making the trip on ac- 
count of trouble with brigands, so this Bedouin was 
sent with us for an escort. 

It was twenty miles to Jericho and the road was 
very bad. Our luncheon, which had come out of 
saddle-bags, was devoured at a little stone hut by 
the roadside. The country was hilly and barren, 
with here and there a shepherd tending his herd of 
goats or camels. 

Drawing near to Jericho, however, we had a 
beautiful view of the Jordan and the Dead Sea. 
On one side of us were the mountains of Moab and 
on the other the hills of Judea. Close to the road 
was a deep ravine, and on the side of the mountain 
opposite were a monastery and caves where monks 
were living. 

The hotel — in those days the only building in 
Jericho — was kept by an English lady who gave us 
tea in a pretty little sitting-room. She had been the 
head of a mission school until she married a Chris- 
tian Jew. They ran the small hotel together with 
the help of one funny little black servant. 

Off again on horseback, this time for the Dead 
Sea, still accompanied by our guard and John the 
dragoman. On the way we passed a Bedouin 
camp with its tents of camel's hair; the Bedouins 



EASTWARD BOUND 211 

were said to be dreadful thieves. In the spring 
the plain is covered with flowers, but foreigners 
seldom see it then, for they can only stand the 
climate a few months in the winter, it is so hot at 
other seasons of the year. 

The Dead Sea is over twelve hundred feet below 
the Mediterranean, and the water has three or four 
times as much salt as that of the ocean. We tried 
to bring to life a pelican who had drunk of it, but 
he soon died in spite of our efforts. At one end 
of the sea Is the plain of Sodom and Gomor- 
rah, where Lot's wife was turned to salt, and 
at the other are monasteries and a mosque that 
is supposed to stand on the spot where Moses 
died. 

The River Jordan, it turned out, was small and 
muddy, with thick bushes growing on either side. Its 
name means " descender," and very appropriately, 
for the Jordan is the only river in the world, so 
far as is known, which runs most of its course be- 
low sea level. In spite of its name, the " Sea " of 
Galilee, which is fed by the Jordan, is a fresh-water 
lake some twelve miles In length; it Is nearly seven 
hundred feet below the level of the Mediterranean, 
being on the course of " the descender." 

From Jericho could be seen the ruins of the an- 
cient city, and the Mount of Temptation. A mis- 
sionary from Africa joined us while we were in 



212 ODD CORNERS 

Jericho — he had walked a thousand miles and had 
most interesting adventures to tell. 

The trip back to Jerusalem was uneventful. In 
Bethany, now a miserable little village on the east 
slope of the Mount of Olives, they showed us the 
usual number of apocryphal landmarks — the tomb of 
Lazarus, the house where Mary and Martha lived, 
a rock on the Mount with a footprint of Jesus, and 
so on. On the walls of a monastery the Lord's 
Prayer had been written in thirty-two languages. 

The streets of Jerusalem, which is a walled city, 
are so narrow that carriages cannot pass through 
them and one has to walk. On a platform of the 
vanished Temple of Solomon stands the largest 
mosque in the world and one of the most beautiful. 
It is a superb great structure, circular in form and 
very much like those I saw in Egypt. In the center 
is the " Holy Rock," on which Abraham was about 
to sacrifice his son when God provided the kid 
instead. However true that may be, it is certain 
that many human sacrifices did take place on this 
rock. The Wailing Place of the Jews is a part of 
the old wall of the Temple of Solomon. Even 
when we were there, they still came to this place to 
moan and cry, and to chant " For the place that is 
desolate we sit in solitude and mourn." 

Other sights of Jerusalem include the Pool of 
Solomon, the waters of Bethesda, the house of the 



EASTWARD BOUND 213 

high priest to which Christ was brought from the 
Garden of Gethsemane, the arch through which 
he passed to the crucifixion, the remains of the 
" stables of Solomon," and a chapel supported by 
the White Fathers, which is said to be built on the 
spot where the Virgin was born. 

While in Jerusalem we attended a service in a 
synagogue. It was interesting to see the Jewish 
men in their fur-lined gowns of purple velvet, their 
fur caps and their side curls, which made them look 
so effeminate. To my surprise, many of them had 
red hair, and their noses were less hooked than I 
had expected. 

Once again at Jaffa, this time to join the ship. 
But imagine our horror to find that she was in 
quarantine and couldn't take on any passengers, and 
the next steamer was not due for ten days! Of 
course we were disappointed, but it turned out to 
be better than we feared, for the house where we 
were staying was in the middle of a fragrant orange 
grove, and the weather was lovely and warm. To 
console us, they told us of a Russian captain who 
had been shipwrecked off Jaffa and had stayed 
there all his life. 

To pass the time we went riding on horseback. 
I had a ripping little Arabian stallion and enjoyed 
it immensely. But alas, one day at full gallop he 
slipped in the mud and fell, and though he was up 



214 ODD CORNERS 

again In an instant I had fallen off and hurt my 
ankle. An old German doctor fixed me up, but I 
had to stay in bed, which was rather tiresome. 

When I was able to be about again, John the 
dragoman took us to see his fiancee in the house of 
his sister, who had married a lawyer. Their house 
was neat and looked quite European; the women 
were fairer than most Syrians and dressed in a 
funny mixture of styles. They couldn't talk Eng- 
lish but were very hospitable, giving us coffee, cake 
and cigarettes. 

At last our ship came in, and we hurried down 
to the shore where small boats were waiting to take 
us out to it. The wind was high and the waves 
enormous and our consul begged us not to go, for 
he said it was dangerous. But all were determined 
to take the risk, because none of us felt that we could 
stand Jaffa any longer. The oarsmen sang and 
rowed for all they were worth. It got rougher 
and rougher as we neared the steamer. The small 
craft tumbled about on the waves and water 
splashed in over the gunwale. The women held 
the men's hands, one cried, while another covered 
her head and collapsed. 

When we finally reached the ship, sailors caught 
us up one at a time as the small boat rose on the 
crest of a wave, and pulled us aboard. Most of us 
managed it without much trouble but one passenger 



EASTWARD BOUND 215 

was so heavy that when they got him halfway up 
he stuck, balancing on the gangway, and for half a 
minute it was uncertain whether he would topple 
off into the water or not. But he didn't, and soon 
Jaffa was left behind us with no regrets whatever. 

The seas quieted down as the steamer neared 
Port Said, and the weather became all that anyone 
could wish. Again we changed ship, this time for 
India, and went ashore for dinner in that strange, 
immoral town which only wakes up when a steamer 
is in and then is very gay. (It was not a new place 
to us for we had been there before, a time to be 
remembered, when plague had broken out on ship- 
board.) Late that night we entered the canal, pass- 
ing out at the other end on the following afternoon. 

Ismailia, halfway through, is thoroughly unin- 
teresting, with avenues of dusty trees and some mud 
houses and '' villas.'' Crossing Timsah Lake the 
steamer entered a narrow canal, not more than a 
hundred feet in width, with a few stunted bushes 
and cacti growing along the banks. At times the 
canal opened out into lagoons and lakes, through 
which we steamed at full speed and then tied up 
at a station for an hour to permit vessels going the 
other way to pass. 

On through the narrow, sand-bound canal. Its 
high banks now and then falling low enough to give 
a glimpse of the endless desert beyond with its 



2i6 ODD CORNERS 

small camps of Arabs and Its caravans moving ever 
so slowly. Then appeared a row of sad-looking 
trees lining the bund of the town of Suez, and a 
string of buoys to direct us out of the canal. 

Suez is not much of a place, a collection of rather 
desolate-looking houses on a low, sandy neck and 
a large quay extending out into the bay with some 
railway buildings. As we left it next morning, 
though, it looked really beautiful on account of the 
coloring of land and water and atmosphere, so pale 
and softly-tinted. Then came the headlands of the 
Gulf of Suez, with the coast ranges of Africa on 
one side and the Sinai Peninsula on the other, the 
mountains faint in the distance. 

Bryce wrote of the Isthmus of Suez : " It echoed 
to the tread of the armies of Thothmes and Rameses 
marching forth on their invasions of western Asia. 
Along the edge of it Israel fled forth before the 
hosts of Pharaoh. First the Assyrian and after- 
ward the Persian hosts poured across it to conquer 
Egypt, and over its sands Bonaparte led his regi- 
ments to Palestine in the bold adventure which was 
stopped at St. Jean d'Acre." And now today the 
armies of the Allies, from India and Australia and 
the ends of the earth, have passed through on their 
way to the scattered battlefields of the Great War. 
Few parts of the world have staged more history 
than the sandy plains of Suez. 




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EASTWARD BOUND 217 

For four days after leaving the Gulf we plowed 
our way down the Red Sea with good weather and 
smooth water and a pleasant breeze blowing. The 
days were glorious and the nights superb, for a 
full moon followed us along. The sunsets were 
especially fine, for the sun went down In splendor 
behind the Ethiopian Mountains. In due time came 
the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb, where the channel Is 
only eighteen miles wide, with the Island of Perim 
and the headlands bare and barren. 

The Red Sea must have been named by a man 
who was color blind, for it is blue as blue can be, 
except In the shallows, where it Is a lovely pale 
green. There were rugged Islands whose shores 
were fringed with wrecks, and occasional stretches 
of low, sandy coast, but most of the time the 
steamer was out of sight of land. 

God-forsaken Aden loomed up out of the night, 
a promontory outlined against the black sky with a 
few twinkling lights. The five days' trip from 
there on to India was smooth and pleasant enough, 
though a trifle hot and muggy. The only land in 
sight was wild Sokotra. 

It is the custom when a ship crosses the equator 
for Neptune to come aboard and enjoy himself at 
the expense of that part of the ship^s company who 
have not crossed the Line before. As a matter of 
fact, on this occasion Neptune must have been a bit 



2i8 ODD CORNERS 

off his course, because, though pretty near it, we 
didn't actually cross the equator. 

One night the steamer stopped and there was 
such a howling and noise that we all rushed up on 
deck, thinking there must be a man overboard. 
Over the railing came two men dripping with water 
— one a savage with little on but a rope skirt, a top 
hat and earrings, who ran up and down the deck 
making a great racket on a tin pan — the other an 
old fellow with a rope beard. They were mes- 
sengers of Neptune, who sent word that the Lord 
of the Ocean was coming on board the next day at 
three o'clock. Then off over the railing they both 
went, and we heard a great splash, and that was all. 

But sure enough, at the appointed hour there ap- 
peared from the hold of the ship a drum major, 
then a band, then a couple of savages, and finally 
Neptune himself, with his queen. The Sea King 
had yellow locks, a robe of red and yellow, and 
web feet. Her Majesty was a sailor very cleverly 
gotten up as a woman. Following them came their 
suite with a sea horse, a monk and many others. 

A tank had been set up on deck and the monk 
took his place behind it. The ladles were only 
blessed and sprinkled with water, but when a big 
German came up he was taken to the side of the 
tank, his face was lathered with a rough brush and 
then shaved. Afterward he was ducked in the 



EASTWARD BOUND 219 

tank, which made him so angry that he started to 
fight with a man who was already in there. It 
was rough horseplay, but quite amusing. 

Night came on, and the Neptunes disappeared 
over the side of the ship. The last we saw of them 
was their lighted craft floating away in the distance. 



CHAPTER XI 



SOME CITIES OF IND 

" To thee, my motherland, I dedicate my body, for thee I con- 
secrate my life; for thee my eyes will weep; and in thy praise 
my Muse will sing. 

" Though my arras are helpless and powerless, still they will 
do the deeds that can only serve thy cause; and though ray sword 
is rusty with disgrace, still it shall sever thy chains of bondage, 
sweet mother of mine." 

Rabindranath Tagore. 

RAVELERS in India usually keep to the 
north, where the trains and hotels are 
more comfortable, but we had decided 
to see as much of the country as we 
could, and so included Ceylon and something of the 
southern part of the peninsula, as well as the more 
frequented routes of the north. We had no cause 
to regret our decision.* 

And really, no one has seen India who has not 
seen the south, with its temple gates and thousand- 
pillared halls, its grotesque sculptures and its varied 

* It is possible now to visit the ruins of Anarodahpura, the 
ancient city which is gradually being unearthed and is well worth 
seeing. 

220 




SOME CITIES OF IND 221 

sights, sounds and smells. One never forgets 
above all those great, deep temples, reeking and 
crowded with wretched, naked people, and the 
graven Images filthy with oil and faded flowers, and 
the clamor of noisy flutes and cymbals and drums, 
and great elephants performing their dally duties In 
the midst of mystic rites. 

Ceylon was the first land sighted — a long, low- 
lying coast fringed with tropical trees. As our 
steamer entered the harbor at Colombo natives came 
flocking round in their catamarans. Their long 
black hair was done In a pug at the back of the 
neck, and they sang and clapped their elbows against 
their firm, dark bodies before diving Into the water 
for shining silver pieces. 

The hotel at Colombo was large and comfortable 
for the Orient, but In the town there was little to 
be seen. It did furnish us with an adventure, 
though. We hired a carriage, the driver of which 
pretended to lose his way and took us into the wilds, 
evidently to rob us. He spoke no English, and all 
the while it was growing darker and we were 
getting farther from civilization. My husband 
tried to make him turn, but he wouldn't, so finally 
L. climbed up onto the box and they had a fight, 
which ended in the man falling off and L. driv- 
ing back to town. It was quite exciting. After- 
ward we heard that a good many people had been 



222 ODD CORNERS 

robbed In Ceylon from time to time, though gen- 
erally by boatmen who would take them off the 
steamer and hold them up for money, threaten- 
ing to throw them overboard if they didn't pay. 

The trip inland to Kandy lay at first through a 
level country of brilhant green paddy fields, long 
stretches of banana groves and bits of dense trop- 
ical jungle. Then the train began to climb and to 
wind in and out among the hills. Groups of natives 
in red and yellow skirts and scarfs brightened the 
landscape, which was also varied with their little 
huts of cocoanut leaves. 

The town of Kandy is built among high moun- 
tains, and is lovely enough to deserve its fame. 
Near our hotel was an artificial lake surrounded by 
a shady terraced drive; on a tiny island was a pa- 
vilion which the last King of Kandy had built for 
his queen. Not far off, in a picturesque temple, 
one of Buddha's teeth was treasured, hidden away 
In a golden lotus flower. There were many fine 
drives among the hills, and splendid trees — the tulip 
in bloom and the flamboyant tree, with Its mag- 
nificent spread of branches, just beginning to 
blossom. 

One morning we set out to visit some old rock 
temples and got lost, walking many miles across 
paddy fields and over hills, through tea plantations 
and jungle. But the temples were quite worth the 



SOME CITIES OF IND 223 

trouble they caused us, for they were built on the 
side of great boulders half as big as mountains. 
While we were sitting on a rock eating the luncheon 
that we had taken with us, we could hear the priests 
inside praying with much beating of tombooras and 
piping of flutes. Also we watched an elephant take 
a bath in a mud-brown river. 

On our return to Colombo, before leaving for 
southern India, we engaged a Hindu servant named 
Bhana, who proved so faithful that we became very 
fond of him. He was rather wizened but had fine 
eyes, bronze skin and a small dark mustache. He 
talked fairly good English and always called L. 
" master," and slept on a rug outside his door. 
His costume consisted of tight white linen trou- 
sers, a jacket reaching nearly to his knees, a red 
sash, and a white turban. When we took him to a 
colder climate he changed to a suit of blue cloth 
and gold, with a gold turban. 

Our approach to the mainland of India left much 
to be desired. They hadn't saved us the stateroom 
which had been paid for on the little steamer cross- 
ing from Ceylon, and it was a most uncomfortable 
passage, with rough weather to make things worse. 
Then at six o'clock next morning we were put into 
a steam launch with a hundred or more dirty na- 
tives who wore little or no clothing, and a lot of lug- 
gage, and taken seven miles to shore. At Tuticorin 



224 ODD CORNERS 

it was impossible to get the private car promised us, 
but we went on to Madura and slept in the station. 

In Madura, however, there was the most inter- 
esting Hindu temple in southern India. Ganesh, 
the elephant-headed god and son of mysterious 
Siva, sat beneath a golden dome. Food was cooked 
for him and water was brought from the river by 
sacred elephants which lived in the temple. Cattle 
were wandering about inside, for he must have the 
milk of a sacred cow set before him. Every morn- 
ing he was given a bath in oil, which made the stone 
quite black and dirty. 

At Chidambaram, beyond Trichinopoli, there 
were no carriages, so L. and I got into a bullock 
cart. It was a fete day and there were many wor- 
shipers in a fine temple nearby, and many can- 
dles lighted in front of a god. Only Hindus were 
allowed near the inner shrine, but one could see 
the strange idol from a distance. The priests put 
strings of flowers about our necks and took us from 
one point of interest to another, followed by a 
crowd of natives who all wanted to explain every- 
thing at once. Of course, as none of them spoke a 
word of English, we didn't know what on earth they 
were saying, but that didn't seem to make any dif- 
ference to them. The sacred creatures carried in 
procession on fete days were shown us — the silver 
bull Nanda, four feet high, a silver horse and a 



SOME CITIES OF IND 225 

peacock, all for the use of the gods, who are taken 
out of their temple, decorated with jewels, and 
mounted, each in his particular vehicle. Here 
were also great cars and chariots and palanquins of 
gold and silver for their service, and many gorgeous 
jewels; though none of them were very good the 
effect was brilliant. We also stopped at Trichinopoli 
and found it an interesting place. 

Madras, with its few comforts, was a welcome 
sight. We had been living in our tiny two-com- 
partment car most of the time, Bhana cooking for 
us, and It was good to get to a place where we could 
go to a hotel and wash up — bad as the hotel was. 
The rooms were all open and the birds flew in and 
out quite informally. 

The plague was raging there, and as I was get- 
ting off the train a man came up and grasped me 
by the wrist, much to my surprise. But before I 
had time to remonstrate he began counting my 
pulse, and proved to be the doctor who was exam- 
ining the travelers. If he found you had any fever 
you were quickly clapped into a little quarantine 
house near the station. 

The men of southern India wear earrings — 
sometimes in the lobe, but often pearls on a gold 
wire in the top of the ear— and strings of pearls 
about the neck, frequently also handsome jewels on 
their turbans. 



226 ODD CORNERS 

The women wear rings on their fingers and on 
their toes as well, and anklets, bracelets and arm- 
lets, and sometimes a stud of gold or a bunch of 
seed pearls — if they are well-to-do— in the side of 
the nose. Often they have a nose ring hanging from 
the center with an ornament of jewels falling just 
below the lips. Bunches of seed pearls, and some- 
times rough emeralds, are hung in the top of the 
ear as with the men. These ornaments are seldom 
seen in the streets, however, because Hindu ladies 
of high caste do not often go out of doors. They 
are not shut in as closely, though, as Mohammedan 
women. One day we saw a strange sight in a sta- 
tion — two Mohammedan men holding a big sheet 
about several women and walking slowly with them 
from the train in which they had had a private car- 
riage to the bullock cart that was waiting for them. 
They consider it very wrong for another man to 
look upon their wives. 

On we went — twenty-four hours across an end- 
less plain, green with crops of grain or golden with 
burnt grass, a succession of little wattle-walled vil- 
lages making it interesting — to Hyderabad, in the 
heart of India. This was on our way to Bombay, for 
there were no trains up the eastern coast to Calcutta. 

Hyderabad was a real Indian city, with few if any 
foreigners. It had gay and crowded bazaars and 
its streets were a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors — 



SOME CITIES OF IND 227 

men on brightly caparisoned horses, and great 
elephants lumbering along. The men carried swords 
or scimitars and wore turbans, and all sorts of fierce 
whiskers and beards and mustaches — some dyed 
bright red with henna. 

One day a Mohammedan wedding procession 
passed through the street — first two elephants, 
then a score of soldiers followed by as many 
women carrying two towers made of gilt paper, 
and after them the bridegroom in a handsome 
dress of velvet and gold, on horseback. Be- 
hind him came the bride in a box-like palanquin 
covered with fine velvet and borne by several men. 

While the maharajas may live in splendor, and 
have several wives and hundreds of concubines, 
the moderately wealthy people seemed to live In 
a horrible way, dwelling In small, dirty places 
and saving their money for weddings and funerals. 
Daughters are very expensive, for the father 
is obliged to give jewels to the bride and a dress 
and feast to the bridegroom. Girls are married 
as young as seven years, but they often remain 
for a few years with their parents. Cases have been 
known where the bridegroom at the last moment 
demanded a larger dot for the girl, and if the 
father couldn't pay it the wedding did not come 
off and she was disgraced for life. 

The Nizam of Hyderabad lived on a hill In a 



228 ODD CORNERS 

palace of rather dirty white stucco arranged like an 
Italian villa, with terraces. The rooms were fur- 
nished with English things, but in very bad taste. 
Everywhere were pictures of himself, half a dozen 
of which showed him killing tigers. Like most 
Orientals, he was very fond of mechanical toys, and 
many were to be seen on all sides. 

The country around Hyderabad is extraordinary 
— a plain of great boulders and rocks of all shapes 
and sizes piled fantastically one upon another and 
pinnacled and castellated. Not far from the city 
is Golconda, famous for its diamonds. It was 
once an ancient capital with a fortress on a rock, 
and a swarming city round it, but now it is dead, 
with only its tombs of kings. 

According to an old legend, thousands of dia- 
monds lay in the bottom of a canyon, but the sides 
were so steep no one could climb down to get them. 
Finally someone devised the plan of dropping 
pieces of meat into the valley to attract the eagles, 
which would fly in to get the food; by following 
their flight to their nests the people got the jewels, 
which had stuck to the meat. 

Of course we saw no such canyon, though there 
are mines not far distant in other parts of the 
Nizam's domains. Golconda, even, had no mines, but 
was simply the place where the diamonds were cut. 

The journey across central India was hot and 



SOME CITIES OF IND 229 

tiresome, and seemed Interminable. But at last it 
was over, and we came to Bombay. 

"Mother of cities to me, 

For I was born in her gate, 
Between the palms and the sea, 

Where the world-end steamers wait." 

So Kipling sang of the city of his birth. His 
devotion seems justified, for Bombay strikes one as 
distinctly a pleasant place to be born in. It is a 
handsome, open city with its park along the sea 
lined with public buildings, its race course and play- 
grounds, the Apollo Bunder beyond, and the pretty 
yacht club. This last overlooks the harbor and its 
anchored shipping, its skylarking native boats with 
their rakish sails, and always the islands in the dis- 
tance for a dim background. 

Bombay had to boast of some sights, of course, 
besides itself, and two of them, the Caves of 
Elephanta and the Towers of Silence, stand out 
especially. 

The caves are on the island of Elephanta, seven 
miles across the bay. They are not more than a thou- 
sand years old, but nothing is known of their origin. 
Whole temples with pillars and porticoes are cut 
out of the solid rock. The panels on the walls 
are carved into figures of Hindu deities — idols 
strangely and carefully sculptured. The rock is soft 
and seems easily broken, and great pieces of the 



230 ODD CORNERS 

supporting columns and portions of the sculptured 
figures have been lost. 

There are fifty thousand Parsees in Bombay- 
worshipers of the elements. They are disciples of 
Zoroaster and expose their dead to the sun and the 
rain on the great white Towers of Silence. There 
were three of these, one for all comers, one for 
suicides and the third the property of an old Parsee 
family. When a body is laid there the greedy vul- 
tures flock down excitedly, but are soon perching 
again about the rim of the white towers, black 
against the blue sky. This cemetery is on the most 
beautiful site in Bombay, high on Malabar Hill 
overlooking the city and harbor. 

While strolling about we noticed the funeral 
procession of a child approaching. First came 
the pall-bearers, all dressed in white even to 
gloves and masks, bearing the body wrapped in a 
white shroud on a brazen trough. Following came 
the mourners, also in white, and last of all, a little 
dog. We were told that he belonged to the ceme- 
tery and that at the service— which we did not see 
— the face of the dead was shown to him. Some 
sweet stuff had been put on it first. If the dog 
licked the face it was considered a sign that the de- 
parted had lived a good life, but if he refused to 
lick it those standing about the body kicked it, be- 
lieving that the deceased had lived an evil life. 



SOME CITIES OF IND 231 

One night during our stay in Bombay we dined 
at Government House, which overlooks the water. 
The servants were in red and gold, with large tur- 
bans, a very effective costume. It was my first visit 
to an English official house, and I kept wondering 
what was going to happen. After taking off our 
wraps we went into a large parlor where about 
twenty men were standing round. No one bowed, 
and no one came forward. Presently, though. Gov- 
ernor and Lady Sandhurst entered and we were in- 
troduced; he took me in to dinner and proved very 
charming. On the other side of me sat an aide to 
Lord Curzon, the new viceroy who was expected 
to arrive next day. 

Housekeeping in India, I was told, was a very 
complicated matter. The smallest house belonging 
to a foreigner must have eleven servants, and no 
one could live in a bungalow with a smaller number 
because of the castes. The bearer or butler must 
be of the highest and so must the cook, because 
Hindus will not eat food cooked by a man of in- 
ferior caste. Different turbans denote the place the 
men come from, while the caste-marks on their 
foreheads show whether they are followers of 
Vishnu or Siva. 

The new Viceroy and Lady Curzon — the latter 
we had known in Washington as Mary Leiter — ar- 
rived next day and were received at the landing 



232 ODD CORNERS 

stage with much pomp. A canopy had been ar- 
ranged over many seats that were occupied by offi- 
cials and distinguished natives. A speech of wel- 
come was read and given to the Viceroy in a hand- 
some box. Lady Curzon looked very pretty and 
self-possessed. She was dressed in blue silk and 
lace, a little low at the neck, with two strings of 
pearls and a large lace hat. After the ceremonies 
were over they started off in a carriage with outriders 
in red and gold livery to the Governor's house, 
through streets gay with banners and flags and 
hanging pieces inscribed " Welcome, Lord and 
Lady Curzon ! " 

That evening the Governor gave a reception in 
their honor. Such a crowd of people was there — 
a great many Parsees and Hindus. As we walked 
into the large reception room and our names were 
called out, the Viceroy and Lady Curzon were 
standing, receiving near the Governor and his wife. 
Everyone was bowing and passing on, so we started 
to do the same, but Lady Curzon put out her hand 
and shook hands with us and said she remembered 
us in Washington, which we thought very nice of 
her. 

From Bombay a snail-like train took us north- 
ward toward Mount Abu. The stops at the sta- 
tions were endless but so amusing with their crowds 
of noisy, gayly-dressed natives that we didn't mind 



SOME CITIES OF IND 233 

very much. After a night and most of a day we 
reached Abu and had our tiny private car detached 
to sleep in. Soon after four the next morning, when 
it was still quite dark except for a moon, we set off 
on horseback for our seventeen-mile ride into the 
mountains. 

The first few miles over the plain it was cold and 
the horses went along willingly enough. Here and 
there were little fires, each with a native sitting or 
sleeping beside it. It was still moonlight when we 
came to the foot of the mountains, but as we 
climbed the ridge the sun rose across the plain be- 
low and the scene was beautiful beyond words. Up 
we went, through a splendid valley, along a fine 
road that wound in and out of the ravine and zig- 
zagged up the mountainside, the view extending 
farther and farther below us till it became a superb 
panorama. 

But we were beginning to be hungry, having had 
only tea before leaving the car, and to add to our 
discomfort the horses were getting tired. It began 
to look as if we should never reach our destination. 
Finally, though, after four hours of climbing, tired 
and famished and nearly frozen, we crossed the top 
onto the plateau of Abu and reached the little hotel 
for breakfast. It was a sort of Bar Harbor-like 
resort for Rajas, with summer palaces. The rocks 
were heaped up in fanciful shapes, there were groups 



234 ODD CORNERS 

of palms and mango trees, and a pretty artificial 
lake with walks round it. But oh, it was so cold! 
They say it is the one place where the lion and the 
tiger are found together. 

Some distance back, among a grove of mangoes, 
were the Jain * temples for which the place is 
famous. From the outside they were disappoint- 
ing, but within, though not large, they proved to be 
gems of marble carving. There were whole courts 
with columns and many shrine fronts and ceiling 
panels of exquisite workmanship. 

We were glad enough to go back to the station 
by jinrikishas, and as it was I was so lame from 
my long ride that for two days I could hardly get 
up or sit down. 

Just before reaching Ajmir, as one goes eastward 
toward Calcutta, after crossing flat valleys and 
climbing steep ridges, one comes to the sacred lake 
of Poshkur. This water, made holy by some act of 
Brahma, is a little Benares with its ghats lining the 
shores, its bathing Brahmins and gayly clad crowds. 
The only temple in India dedicated to Brahma 
stands here at the head of a sandy street — simply 
a Hindu dome and a small shrine enclosed in a 
court. Above the gateway on the inside is the 
sacred goose, the bearer of Brahma. 

In Ajmir itself was the tomb of a saint. Mount- 
*The Jains are a Hindu sect closely resembling the Buddhists. 



SOME CITIES OF IND 235 

ing a flight of steps we passed beneath a dilapidated 
portal and into a roughly paved enclosure sur- 
rounded by a cloister-like portico. At one end was 
a platform where sacred plays are given at cer- 
tain seasons. On either side of the gate was 
a great copper vessel, large enough to hold 
many thousand measures of grain. At festival 
times these are filled at public expense and cooked, 
then the sacred '^ chapatties " are handed out to the 
people. 

Nearby was another courtyard shaded by spread- 
ing peepuls and banyans beneath which squatted, 
stood or lay in sleep, many pilgrims. Each one, 
whatever his attitude, was holding a string with 
a prayer, which was tied to a branch of the tree 
above him. These were petitioners to the saint. 

At Jeypore I rode on the broad back of Bahlmati, 
an elephant of the maharaja's stud, to Amber, 
clinging for dear life all the way as the mountain 
of a beast went towering along. Caravans of long- 
necked, mincing camels tied head to tail in an end- 
less row ambled past us, and crowds of picturesque 
natives on foot. 

Our next stop was at Amritsar, the sacred city 
of a reformed sect of Hindus known as Sikhs. The 
walls and gates of the city are so blessed that pil- 
grims kiss them. For all that, the town has an un- 
usually businesslike look, with its shops and crowded 



236 ODD CORNERS 

bazaars and its innumerable shouting, fighting, ges- 
ticulating merchants. 

The great Golden Temple stands in the middle 
of a large marble tank — the " tank of immortality," 
where hundreds go every morning to wash away 
their sins and ills. It is rather a small, square- 
domed building, which gleams in the sun. Its white 
marble portions are beautifully inlaid with mosaic. 
One approaches it over a marble bridge lined with 
golden lanterns. The interior is brightly decorated 
in colors. Beneath a canopy of blue and green lay 
the sacred books of the Sikhs with their rules and 
regulations. Behind them squatted the chief priest 
and his assistants, before whom the faithful were 
prostrated in prayer, while from somewhere the 
music of pipe and tambours was being discoursed. 

To visit this temple we had to take off our shoes, 
and an official went with us to see that we did noth- 
ing which might offend the people. From the roof 
we climbed one of the little corner minars, where 
there is a very good view of the flat-roofed city. 

After leaving the temple we went through some 
manufactories of rugs and shawls. These were being 
made in mud hovels at very primitive looms. It is 
a patient and tedious process, for every thread is 
tied separately and the stitches are set one by one. 
It may take months for five men to make one rug. 

The merchant shops had such lovely things in such 



SOME CITIES OF IND 237 

musty places — Rampore chuddas and cashmeres 
and chogas, dragged out from dusty corners by 
smiling, oily babus. 

That evening we took the night mail northward 
to Delhi. Modern Delhi, built in the seventeenth 
century, stands among the ruins of many another 
city, which the whims and jealousies of monarchs 
have built up and pulled down again. For the cities 
followed the fort and the palace of the king whose 
caprice moved them from place to place. This last 
one was founded by the great Mogul emperor. Shah 
Jehan, who also built the Taj Mahal and many 
other wonderful palaces and temples. 

The walls of his fort and palace are of red sand- 
stone, castellated. The main approach is through 
the Lahore gate, a great archway in a massive 
tower, then through a high vaulted passage Into the 
Interior of the fort. The large modern barracks 
for the garrison are of little Interest, but In one 
corner Is a gem — the monarch's palace. Within 
was the private hall of audience, which had just 
been restored — with gilding, alas ! for gold — and a 
white marble loggia with great heavy columns 
decorated with mosaic in bright colors. Its ceiling 
was once a mass of gold and silver fretwork but all 
this went away with some conqueror. Now It Is as 
gayly If not as richly restored. Beneath this canopy 
stood the famous peacock throne, made of gold and 



238 ODD CORNERS 

precious stones worth three hundred lakhs of 
rupees. 

At one side something still remains of the 
seraglio, whose white halls were most beautifully 
and completely decorated with gay frescoes of 
enamel work and divided by a very delicate and 
intricate alabaster screen. On the other side are 
the baths, chambers with strangely vaulted roofs of 
marble, completely inlaid in mosaic, with deep tanks 
and rippled courses for the flowing water. 

One night Shah Jehan dreamed a dream and be- 
hold, he saw the Musjid that is in the Fourth 
Heaven! When he awoke he determined to build 
one like it, so he ordered his ministers to draw the 
plans. But they had not dreamed the dream that 
their emperor had, nor been admitted with him to 
the Fourth Heaven, so they were afraid to try. 
But he threatened them with death and would have 
carried out the threat had not one holy man come 
forward and offered to make the drawings for the 
mosque. 

So, they say, was built the great Jumma Musjid, 
a most magnificent and impressive structure — one 
of the largest in existence. It stands on a high ter- 
race above the city, its great courtyard surrounded 
on three sides by a red sandstone portico with a 
lofty gateway in the middle of each side, approached 
by broad flights of steps. 



SOME CITIES OF IND 239 

On the western side of the courtyard towers the 
mosque, a massive building with an imposing fagade 
and arches. From one of the tall minars we had a 
magnificent view of the city, the ruins about It 
and the country stretching off into the haze of 
distance — endlessly flat and crossed by the erratic 
Jumna. 

A native festival and fair going on outside the 
town looked from a distance like a circus encamp- 
ment at home. Hundreds of tents and booths 
were laid out upon the grassy plain, leaving broad 
streets between. The tents had little gardens in 
front where natives squatted about waiting for the 
nautch to begin. On our way back to the town we 
stopped at the fair. The streets were nearly im- 
passable with the crowds of walking, riding, driv- 
ing people, all in their best and brightest attire. 
Great heavy, fat, wealthy babus were there on 
horses caparisoned in gold and colors; rich danc- 
ing girls in brightly canopied and curtained bullock 
carts; young native swells dashing up and down in 
mail phaetons and dog carts — "civilized" India; 
here and there a gay crowd about some wrestlers 
or tumblers, and hawkers and venders. 

From Delhi we went to Agra which, with its 
wealth of beauty, is one of those places that make 
Indian travel worth enduring. This capital of the 
Mogul Empire at Its highest Is indeed one of the 



240 ODD CORNERS 

wonders of India, for it contains the masterpiece of 
Shah Jehan's work, the peerless Taj Mahal. 

The most beautiful building in the world, peo- 
ple call the Taj, but I had heard so much in its 
praise that I was afraid it would prove disappoint- 
ing, for it seemed that no building planned by the 
human mind could deserve all that was said of this 
one. Even when I had seen it from across the river 
in all its dazzling whiteness and its exquisite sym- 
metry and proportions, with its minars and its 
white domes like bubbles against the sky, I dreaded 
any nearer view for fear that it would prove un- 
Vv^orthy of the test. But there was to be a flower 
festival in the Taj gardens and we went. 

Across the dry plain and past the great red ram- 
parts of the fort, through cloister-like arcades, we 
came at last to the gate — a massive sandstone struc- 
ture rising high into the air. As we went through 
its pointed arch and up a few steps to the platform 
of the passage, the glory of the Taj burst upon us, 
thrilling in its beauty. 

At the end of a vista of paved ways and lines of 
playing fountains, walled in by the spreading trees 
of the garden, it rose, a mass of snow-white marble 
that seemed to float in air as if poised in the blue 
sky. Music was playing softly somewhere in the 
distance and the air was heavy with perfume. The 
shaded lanes of the garden were bright with the 



SOME CITIES OF IND 241 

costumes of the natives, who moved slowly about, 
speaking only In whispers and listening to the 
splashing of waters. 

As we drew nearer the great cloud expanded be- 
fore us, Its domes and minars touched to gold by 
the last rays of the setting sun. It Is so wonder- 
fully proportioned that It appears to have no size. 
Gazing at It one seems to float away with It Into the 
air, such Is the spell It casts on the beholder. 

Entering beneath a lofty arch that was Inlaid 
with quotations from the Koran in black marble, 
and through a door In a great screen, we found our- 
selves In an antechamber from which a narrow pas- 
sageway with flights of dangerously polished steps 
led down into a small, dark vault below. In this 
vault were the tombs of the builder. Shah Jehan, 
and of his favorite, Mumtaz Mahal, for whom 
this grand mausoleum was made. It was black as 
night down there, but one bright ray of light pene- 
trated the narrow corridor and fell upon her tomb 
where her name was set In mosaic, most touching 
and Impressive. 

Above is the grand vault of the Taj, a great 
octagonal room containing the honorific tombs, 
which are larger than those below and surrounded 
by exquisitely lace-like marble. In this chamber a 
sounded note creates a delicious echo which fades 
and dies away, forming changing harmonies that 



242 ODD CORNERS 

seem to be heard even after they have ceased. 
Strangely enough — and yet fitly, too, in this sacred 
spot — a harsh noise or a cry cannot be made, for 
in its echo it is turned to music. 

We lingered a while in the garden spellbound, 
breathing in the heavily perfumed air, listening to 
the strange, soothing sounds of the distant flutes 
and the falling water, and gazing up at that great 
white cloud of the Taj Mahal till the deep shadows 
of night had hidden it. 

But with a journey ahead of us it would not do 
to stay there dreaming forever, and reluctantly we 
tore ourselves away. Next day we were crossing 
the sacred Ganges and before us stretched Benares, 
holiest of holies to the Hindus, a crescent amphi- 
theater rising round the bend of the gleam- 
ing river. The sun was setting behind the city and 
made the towers and domes of the mosques stand 
out black in silhouette against the sky. The ter- 
raced steps reaching to the water and the palaces 
and temples were all reflected in the river. The mov- 
ing crowd of bathers passed up and down, praying 
or meditating. 

There was much to see. The funeral pyre of a 
high caste man had been built by the Domras, the 
lowest of the castes. The fire for lighting It had 
been bought from them. The nearest of kin per- 
formed the ceremonies — made the meal patties that 



SOME CITIES OF IND 243 

were placed In the mouth of the dead, and put sandal 
wood on the breast, and the five sticks of wood, 
sprinkling Ganges water as he walked five times 
round the body with the lighted brand before he 
started the fire. All about squatted the friends, 
while on a platform a fakir told his beads, wholly 
oblivious to what was going on. 

Here, too, was the Holy Man of Benares, by 
whom we were much impressed. He was really a 
god to these people, who went to him as to an 
oracle and worshiped idols in his semblance. His 
name was Swami Bhashara Nand Saraswati, and he 
lived in a temple courtyard, without clothing, and 
without food except that which pilgrims brought 
him. He had a saint-like face, much like Pope 
Leo's but with a sweeter expression. We enjoyed 
the talk we had with him. It was most interesting 
to have seen those two holy men, each a ruler in his 
own way, their lives so similar and yet so different. 
We asked the Hindu saint the best way to live In 
this world, and he answered, " To live so that you 
can enter the next." 

Within driving distance of Benares is Sarnath, 
site of the ancient Benares but now simply vast 
piles of earth and brick ruins. Out of the midst of 
these rises an old Buddhist stupa built by some 
emperor about the time of the first Punic war. It 
is a strange-looking monument, the lower part of 



244 ODD CORNERS 

massive, square-hewn stone and faced with seven 
entablatures on which could still be seen parts of 
the boldly carved lotus flowers and fruits and geo- 
metric figures of the original pattern. But it was 
mostly in ruins and the upper portion — of brick- — 
was dilapidated and covered with grass, while its 
debris strewed the plain round about. Sarnath is the 
old Isipatana, where Gautama first taught the Law 
after he had attained Buddhahood at Gya and gave 
his mild and gentle religion to the eager, throng- 
ing people. 

Calcutta, our next stop, was of course very dif- 
ferent, for it was an official English city with all 
that means. It is situated on the Hooghli, which is 
one of the mouths of the Ganges and said to be the 
most difficult river in the world to navigate. Be- 
sides its terrific tides and currents there are con- 
stantly changing quicksands, and if a vessel so much 
as touches a bar the power of the water capsizes 
her immediately. No wonder the Calcutta pilots 
are among the best to be found — they have to be. 

But in spite of its handicap, the finest shipping In 
the world came to Calcutta. Behind the forest of 
masts and rigging along the river, the great com- 
mon of the city, the Maidan, stretched for miles. 
The hotels were crowded but we found charming 
rooms facing this park, where cattle were browsing. 
In one corner of the Maidan music was played in 



SOME CITIES OF IND 245 

the evening and the " world " of the city drove by 
and listened. 

The Curzons had already arrived from Bombay, 
where we had last seen them. We lunched with 
them at Government House amid much stiff cere- 
monial, which I am sure must have bored them, 
though they carried it off very well. The Viceroy 
was pleasant and affable but Lady Curzon looked 
pale and ill and tired, though very handsome. She 
was dressed simply in a blue flowered muslin with a 
yellow belt and a string of pearls about her neck. 

I sat at the Viceroy's right. Many native serv- 
ants in crimson and gold waited upon us. The 
Viceroy and Lady Curzon marched in to dinner to- 
gether first, and he told me that he was obliged to 
receive people from a sort of throne. When they 
were given a present from a native prince there 
was a special officer to value it, and if they wished 
to keep it they had to pay in the valuation, or else 
the '* gift '' went to the Government store, in which 
tase the Government had to return an equivalent for 
it. Government House, while huge and impressive, 
was very inconveniently arranged to our way of 
thinking. The kitchen was at least two hundred 
yards distant from the house, outside the garden 
and across a road. 

The Curzons' first reception, an evening party, 
was very fine. There was a tremendous line of car- 



246 ODD CORNERS 

riages and our coachman was so stupid that he 
didn't get into it, and we finally had to have a police- 
man help us. When we did succeed at last in get- 
ting into the house it was a strange and interesting 
sight, with the Indian princes and maharajas in 
handsome costumes of gold cloth with jeweled watch 
chains and superb pins in the front of their turbans. 
The Viceroy and Lady Curzon were making a tour 
of the room when we arrived, bowing to right and 
left and occasionally stopping to speak to someone 
whom they knew. He wore a uniform of black 
with much gold lace and a blue ribbon with various 
orders. 

The contrasts of life are nowhere more dramatic 
than in Calcutta. Walking down by the river one 
day we came to a burning ghat, a roofless structure 
opening with pillars toward the water. Here the 
remains of some lately deceased Hindu were rapidly 
being consumed on a plain little wood fire, for only 
the rich can ascend in the smoke of sandal and 
other sweet-scented woods. 

The fanaticism of the Hindu faith showed here 
in its most horrible and repulsive forms. The road 
approaching the ghat, which is a few miles out of 
the city, was filled with pilgrims coming and going, 
for it was the season of the full moon and a time 
especially sacred for the sacrifices. Along the way, 
lying on filthy mats or groveling in the very dust. 



SOME CITIES OF IND 247 

lay starving, emaciated creatures, nothing but bones, 
writhing and groaning and crying for alms from the 
passer-by; some were blind, with empty sockets, 
others full of sores or falling to pieces with some 
foul disease; old men, naked and smirched with the 
dust of ashes, living skeletons, sat meekly under the 
hot sun. On the river bank was a man who slept 
on a bed of nails stuck point upwards. One religious 
fanatic had held his arm above his head till it 
stiffened in that position. In his closed, withered 
hand he held some sacred grass. Poor, self-tortur- 
ing wretches ! 

Through piles of rubbish and a gateway we came 
to a temple, a paved courtyard with a roof sup- 
ported by rows of columns, where worshipers were 
prostrating themselves and praying loudly. In 
their midst little black kids were being slaughtered, 
till the place ran red with blood. The kids' heads 
were set in a row at one side as an offering to the 
goddess who loves blood, while the poor little 
bodies were left on the red pavement, to be 
carried away later and carved for the pilgrims' 
food. The image of this bloodthirsty goddess was 
in a recessed shrine beneath another porch, the 
floor of which was covered with a struggling mass 
of worshipers striving to prostrate themselves be- 
fore her. Some priests of the temple made a pas- 
sage for us so that we could see her — grotesque and 



248 ODD CORNERS 

horrible, three-eyed and covered with a sticky red 
powder which the pilgrims touch and with which 
they mark their foreheads. We were glad to 
escape from the struggling, crazy horde and to 
pass beyond the supplicating wretches out into the 
open. 

Not knowing any obliging babu who would do 
the honors of a nautch dance for us we got one up 
for ourselves. Passing through back alleys one 
day we mounted a flight of steps, crossed a low 
porch and entered a small room. Here a white 
cloth was spread tightly on the floor and cushions 
were piled about in the corners. Three musicians 
played on a sort of violin, a tambour and cymbals, 
and did most of the singing. Their music, though 
very high and sharp, was quite enjoyable, with 
more tune than Chinese or Japanese music. 

The two Hindu nautch girls who danced for us 
were not very attractive, but one was very amus- 
ing, especially after she had quaffed away a pint of 
beer at one gulp. They took turns at the dancing, 
which was very slow — a series of posturings done 
with peculiar snake-like movements and undula- 
tions of the arms and body, with gliding to and fro, 
and every now and then a rapid whirl. There 
were some character dances, too, very graceful and 
sensuous. Every few moments the girls would stop 
and have a puff at the hubble-bubble pipe. Natives 



SOME CITIES OF IND 249 

can sit for hours watching the nautch dancing and 
listening to the songs, but to the foreigner they are 
monotonous and unintelligible. 

While in Calcutta we had an interesting meeting 
with the man whom Marion Crawford had immor- 
talized as " Mr. Isaacs." I had expected to find 
him a tall, slight man, no longer young, perhaps, 
but handsome still, and living in great luxury. I 
imagined he would receive us in the evening, clad 
in some rich costume, and show us handfuls of 
gems. 

Instead, he asked us to come at three o'clock In 
the afternoon, and we were ushered into a dark 
little hotel sitting-room which he had apparently 
hired for the occasion. Mr. Isaacs himself — his real 
name was Jacobs — -was (I could hardly believe 
my eyes) a fat, bald little man with store clothes! 
He was an Armenian and his only redeeming feature 
was his fine eyes. My general impression was 
of a shrewd common dealer and a typical Jew. 
We sat about a small table and he showed us sev- 
eral things but none of them remarkable — not 
nearly so fine as some we saw in Madras. 

He was still very wealthy, though he had just 
lost a large sum of money through a lawsuit with 
the Nizam of Hyderabad. Mr. Isaacs had showed 
him the model of a large and very perfect diamond 
and had promised to get it for him for twenty 



250 ODD CORNERS 

lakhs — $600,000 — which the Nizam agreed to pay, 
for he was the richest of the Indian princes. But 
the English Raj, or government, interfered and 
said it was an outrageous price, so the Nizam tried 
to get out of taking the stone. Mr. Isaacs did 
succeed in getting half the money in the end. 

We left Calcutta one afternoon for a trip north 
to Darjeeling which proved exciting as well as beau- 
tiful, for an attempt was made to wreck the train 
on the way up, and it was robbed on the way down. 
But the engine threw off the sleepers which had 
been laid across the track, and the robbers took 
nothing from our carriage, so that we were none 
the worse for either experience. 

Early In the evening, four hours out of Calcutta, 
we reached the Ganges and changed to a boat. It 
took an hour to make the crossing because of a sand 
bar in the way, but we dined on deck in the moon- 
light very pleasantly. On the other side we boarded 
another train and next morning found ourselves at 
the foot of the Himalayas, which rose directly from 
the plains. A little trolley car, so small that it 
looked like a plaything but made a great fuss with 
bells and whistles before it could be persuaded to 
start, took us up and up, seven thousand feet, to 
Darjeeling. 

There, when you feel as if you were as high as 
you could possibly go, you suddenly see a range of 



SOME CITIES OF IND 251 

mountains way up above you, and then another, still 
higher — all white with the " everlasting snows " 
and with mist between so that they seem to be 
floating in the sky. 

Next morning we were up at four and, dressed 
in our warmest things, for it was very cold, set off 
In chairs of some sort, called dandies and carried 
by coolies, to see the sunrise from Tiger Hill. Our 
coolies were very picturesque, for they looked 
like Chinese with their pigtails, funny-shaped caps 
and snow boots. (Darjeeling is just on the border 
of Tibet, and the Tibetans are really half Chinese 
and half Indian.) They took us six miles up the 
mountains, most of the way through little wooded 
paths, all in the light of the full moon. 

From Tiger Hill there Is the finest panorama in 
the world. We stood in the midst of the snow, while 
eight thousand feet below us stretched the great 
vast plain of India, breaking away in every direc- 
tion, threaded by silver rivers. 

We had been there only a few minutes when a 
soft glow lighted the scene, and before us, rose and 
yellow and white in the sunrise, Mt. Kinchinjinga 
came forth in all its glory. The peaks turned pink, 
their bases disappeared in mists, and then, away off 
in the distance through a pass between purple 
mountains, looming low it was so far away, yet 
above the others, appeared Mt. Everest, the highest 



252 ODD CORNERS 

mountain In the world, with its two sister peaks on 
either side. 

Hurrying back to Darjeeling we caught the morn- 
ing train to Calcutta and thence to Bombay, where 
we sailed away for England. 



CHAPTER XII 



IN AND OUT OF LONDON 




SMALL house In Half Moon Street had 
been reserved for us. The first morn- 
ing we slept till noon, for we were very 
tired from our long rolling on the sea. 
Our landing the day before had been made com- 
fortably enough amid the slow bustle of an Eng- 
lish dock. The coast looked vividly green and fair 
with its picturesque little houses nestling behind the 
coves, and the run up to London was through the 
greenest of country, too, with those delightful vil- 
lages and spires and stations which never seem to 
change. 

It clouded up as the train drew in to London and 
became raw and cold, so we were glad of the little 
coal fires and of our tea and muffins that afternoon. 
Later there was a bit of orange-lozenge sun through 
the thick atmosphere and a yellow-green look to the 
parks. Half Moon and No Sun Street it was some- 
times called, and on the whole the name fitted. 

The American Ambassadress, who was to make 
her presentations in the Diplomatic Circle at Court 

253 



254 ODD CORNERS 

in less than a week after our arrival, kindly said 
that she would take me, but If I was to pay my re- 
spects to royalty I would have to hasten my prepa- 
rations. Kate Riley, the court dressmaker, made 
me a lovely gown and fortunately It came on time. 
It was of white satin with pearl embroidery and 
sparkling trimmings. The long train falling from 
the shoulders was of silver cloth, and in my hair 
were the conventional three white ostrich feathers. 
For jewels I wore an emerald and diamond tiara 
and on my corsage a big Indian emerald which 
a maharaja had once worn in the front of his 
turban. Various members of the household came 
with their friends to inspect me, and then L. and 
I set off in style for the drive to Buckingham 
Palace. 

After entering the courtyard we made our way 
through endless rooms and corridors and galleries 
and up countless stairs, directed every few minutes 
by servants in magnificent liveries. When we 
reached the throne room I left my husband and 
a gentleman-in-walting escorted me to the room 
where the ladies of the Diplomatic Corps were to 
meet — a long gallery with red and gold benches on 
the sides and beautiful tapestry on the walls. The 
diplomats' wives arrived one by one, most of them 
plain and not very well dressed. 

Meanwhile the throne room was filling with 



IN AND OUT OF LONDON 255 

royalties and people having the entree, while the 
other parlors in succession were being crowded with 
the General Circle. The Beefeaters and gentlemen- 
at-arms in splendid uniforms had taken their places 
and were marching through the halls, busy court 
officials were flying about, and the great orchestra 
struck up the royal march. 

Everyone rose and, amid music and trumpets and 
soldiers, the King and Queen entered and took their 
seats in the two red and gold chairs which had been 
used for the coronation. King Edward was in uni- 
form while Queen Alexandra wore a mauve dress 
with a train carried by several pages. Her jewels 
were enormous diamonds and amethysts. Behind 
the throne, at a distance, gathered the other royal- 
ties. L. says this was an improvement on the 
old arrangement, when they all stood in a long 
row and had to be bowed and courtesied to many 
times. 

First Lady Lansdowne, the wife of the Foreign 
Secretary, entered the throne room and passed be- 
fore the King and Queen; then the Italian Ambas- 
sadress, Madame Panza, who was doyenne of the 
Diplomatic Corps, went in, followed by two Ameri- 
can girls and myself, each at the end of the other's 
train. (The American Ambassadress had been 
taken 111.) People's names were called out as they 
went by the royal dais. The men of the DIplo- 



255 ODD CORNERS 

matic Corps followed, and after passing we all 
stood and watched the presentations. Their Maj- 
esties stood for all the diplomats and those they 
presented but sat down for the others, of whom 
there were about six hundred. 

Some of the women were old, others young; 
some were pretty, and many depended on their 
finery for their beauty; some were frightened and 
a few were self-possessed. Most of the ladies of the 
royal family were good-looking and wore superb 
jewels. The throne room made an excellent back- 
ground for the pageant, for it is vast, with a bal- 
cony at one end for the musicians, and pictures of 
flying Pompeiian ladies on the walls above the red 
brocade. 

After the presentations were over the King and 
Queen withdrew and the Diplomatic Corps fol- 
lowed, passing through magnificent salons to the 
rooms where a buffet supper was served. It was all 
very fine, but the floors were so dirty that the bot- 
tom of my dress was almost ruined. After a while 
we left and went down the great stairways, watch- 
ing for a time the General Circle waiting for their 
carriages, then out by the ambassadors' entrance, 
where the state coaches were standing. 

Most of the women who were presented sat up all 
night waiting their turn to be photographed in their 
court gowns, but I preferred to go next day, even if 



IN AND OUT OF LONDON 257 

It did mean a little extra trouble. As it was, we got 
home not long after midnight. 

An organ grinder was playing dismally in the 
street and the cries of the flower men and the 
vegetable venders re-echoed up and down as we set 
out for Derby Day. 

The weather was bad but the race was specially 
interesting on that account. For not only was it an 
open race, with no one knowing which of the three- 
year-olds would win and many people over from 
France to see a famous French horse get the prize, 
but it was run in a driving thunderstorm with light- 
ning playing all about. 

It was pouring when our motor left London, but 
we were wrapped up in raincoats and really en- 
joyed the run out there, joining the long procession 
of carts and brakes full of gay people, past the way- 
side inns where horses were being rested on the long 
drive and the passengers were proceeding to get 
drunk, out through Putney and Wimbledon and 
Epsom towns, all picturesque and crowded notwith- 
standing the rain, to the Downs. 

There were thousands and thousands of people, 
with the King and his company and all the racing 
men. In the crowded enclosure much excited bet- 
ting was going on, and opposite the stand, across 
the track, were the tents and poles of mountebanks 



258 ODD CORNERS 

just like a country fair, and coaches black with peo- 
ple all lined up against the rail. Of course the Blue 
Ribbon of the turf was what everyone was so 
anxious about. We walked in the paddock and saw 
the horses saddled, and wandered over among the 
jugglers and the coaches with their parties lunching 
on top, the peddlers crying their wares, the book- 
makers noisily offering their odds, and the public 
placing their bets. 

After the parade in front of the grand stand the 
horses were sent to the start on the other side of 
the course and at last got off in the storm which 
came up just at that moment. The poor French 
horse, frightened to death by the lightning and 
unused to English weather anyway, got away last 
and remained last for most of the race, while a 
horse that had scarcely been mentioned took the 
lead and held it. 

People said that the enthusiasm at the finish was 
very great, but English enthusiasm is subdued at 
best. However, the men did not mind the rain but 
stood out in it without a murmur and took their 
drenching. So another Derby was run, and we had 
one more interesting thing to remember. 

Ascot, however, was English racing at its best, 
not only on account of the rank and fashion that 
attended it in a body, but because the prizes were 
important and the distances long. The place itself 



IN AND OUT OF LONDON 259 

was very pretty, too, with quite a perfect race 
course. 

We motored out early through the endless sub- 
urbs of West London and across the pretty country 
skirting the edge of Windsor Forest, through Edg- 
ham and Virginia Water, and came at length to the 
town of Ascot, which was very gay for its " royal 
days." Our Ambassador had kindly got us vouchers 
tor the royal enclosure, so we had seats under cover. 
The weather looked threatening but fortunately the 
rain held off till the end of the afternoon. 

According to the custom of this course the 
King came in semi-state. Just before the races be- 
gan, about one o'clock, the royal procession ap- 
peared at the end of the long, green mile-course, 
having driven over from Windsor. It made a pretty 
show with the crimson-jacketed and gold-braided 
outriders and postilions and the cavorting horses, 
passing the stands and defiling into the entrance ot 
the royal pavilion. In a wine-colored carriage 
drawn by four horses, with outriders, and footmen 
standing behind, were the King and Queen, who 
bowed right and left. There were half a dozen 
other carriages in the procession, as all the guests 
for Ascot Week came over from Windsor, too. 
Between the carriages were grooms mounted on 
handsome bay horses. The crowd formed a good 
background for the pageant, for all the women had 



26o ODD CORNERS 

dressed as though for a royal garden party and 
made a brilliant sight. 

Luncheon was served after the first race, and 
after the fifth one we went over to the tent of the 
Bachelors' Club and had a cup of that awful black 
English tea, to warm up for the drive back. In 
spite of the rain we had a fine ride, passing wagons 
and carts and brakes in endless procession. Wind- 
sor Castle rose magnificently from its great park 
with the huge, gnarled, wide-spreading oaks and its 
alleys and scattered deer. On we went to Windsor 
town, and along the Thames, and so to the city of 
London once more. 

Eton's great day falls on the fourth of June, and 
L. and I went down as the guests of one of the boys. 
Eton is of course a quaint old place, and the ivy- 
covered school buildings date back to indefinite 
times. In the schoolrooms the names of " old 
boys " from time immemorial are carved all over 
the walls and furniture. On a June afternoon it 
looked very picturesque and fascinating, but for all 
that it was about as unsanitary a place as one could 
choose. The play fields are often flooded, the 
waters coming up to the very doorsteps of the house 
where our young friend lived, and the recitation 
rooms were wretchedly ventilated and were dark 
and dreary. But as we walked through the quad- 



IN AND OUT OF LONDON 261 

rangles beneath the arches to the playing fields 
where, as it is said, " the battle of Waterloo was 
won," with their great spreading trees shadowing 
the park-like turf, it was all very lovely. Every- 
where among the gayly dressed visitors were the 
Eton boys in their bob-tailed coats and high silk 
hats and the trousers which they must always wear 
turned up — most amusing little men! 

There was a game of cricket on and the band of 
the Guards was playing, and tea was served in the 
marquees. But we walked back to the rooms of 
our youthful host and had a '^ gouter " of jam and 
strawberry smash and tea and cakes there before 
going on to see the procession of boats on the river. 

Below the towers and high terraces of Windsor, 
where the river winds through Eton, the people had 
gathered in their holiday dress. Crowded launches 
plied up and down and small boats were skylarking 
about. We got into one of them and tied up to the 
bank. Soon the eight-oared racing crafts came out 
with each crew of boys in a different costume, and 
wearing the. colors of their boat in ribbons and 
streamers. All the cockswains were clad like little 
admirals and looked very amusing wuth their epau- 
lets and gold lace and cocked hats and their bouquets 
of flowers between their knees. They rowed up 
the river and then raced down, twice, and later went 
as guests of the King to a '' luncheon " at eight 



262 ODD CORNERS 

o'clock in the evening. Afterward they had fire- 
works, but we did not stay, having to be back in 
town for dinner. " Floreat Etonal " 

One morning in early June we took a launch and 
spent the day on the Thames. But first there was 
a train crowded with people — for it was a bank 
holiday — from Paddington down to Maidenhead. 
There we joined the boat at Boulter's Lock and 
went up river past Taplow and Cliveden, where the 
river was loveliest, and through the lock at Cook- 
ham and so on to Marlow and a bit beyond, where 
we moored our craft to the reedy bank and had a 
good tiffin served merrily in the cabin. 

The river was gay with boats and launches and 
punts, large and small. Near the towpath was the 
Compleat Angler Hotel with its dear little garden 
right down to the water's edge. It was pleasant to 
sit on rustic benches beneath the trees and rest and 
drink coffee and watch the boats and the people go 
by till our launch came along and picked us up again. 

Down river it glided, through locks and past 
swarms of boats, till at last great Windsor came 
into view across the meadows, with the evening sun- 
light on it. So, following the turns of the winding 
river, we came to the great city and at last reached 
Half Moon Street, after nine, though it was still 
daylight. 



IN AND OUT OF LONDON 263 

Week-end parties are such a thoroughly British 
institution that our visit to the American Ambassa- 
dor at Wrest Park must be mentioned. It began 
with an hour's ride on the train to FHtwIck and then 
a four or five mile drive by motor to the Park, which 
is supposed to be one of the finest country places 
in England. 

The house is rather like a French chateau, long 
and low-lying, with gardens two hundred years old 
by Le Notre, a park beyond with herds of sheep 
and cows and deer, and long avenues of trees 
stretching off into the distance. The garden had 
hidden artificial lakes and a Chinese bridge over the 
brook, and labyrinths of tangled dripping trees with 
green moss clinging to everything. 

Indoors there was a good deal of gilding, but It 
was rich and restrained, and there were many paint- 
ings by famous artists — two glorious Sir Joshuas in 
the dining-room. The staircase hall was two stories 
high and had family portraits set Into the paneled 
woodwork and a piano to dance by In the evenings. 
Set deep Into the walls of the main rooms were cases 
of gorgeously bound books, and everywhere were 
blazing open fires. But I must admit that accord- 
ing to American ideas the house was poorly lighted 
and badly heated, for all Its beauty. 

Tea was served soon after we arrived, and the 
gathering Interested me, for the ladies appeared in 



264 ODD CORNERS 

lovely tea gowns and jewels — In fact, they might 
really have been dressed for a ball. The way 
everyone wandered round and paid no attention to 
each other or to their hostess made it seem just as 
if we were at a hotel. 

Sir Edward Grey, even at that time the most 
talked-of man in Europe, was to have come down, 
but at the last moment was unable to do so as he 
was " commanded '' to Sandringham. 

After tea our hostess took us to our rooms, which 
had Chinese paper on the walls and were filled with 
lovely old furniture and hangings. There was 
plenty of time for dressing, as dinner was not until 
half after eight. 

The dinners were very handsome, but one had 
hardly time to enjoy anything before the long file 
of tall footmen in breeches took up the courses re- 
morselessly. It was all very formal, as may be 
imagined in a house where even the maids and valets 
went to their dinner in full evening dress! 

In the morning everybody did as they pleased 
till luncheon, which was served at one o'clock in the 
pavilion. This was a damp casino some ten minutes' 
walk from the house; we sat about with our furs 
on during the elaborate meal. Here at the pavilion 
the " guns " were gathered and the morning's battue 
brought in and counted, while a picturesque group 
of beaters and keepers stood about at a respectful 



IN AND OUT OF LONDON 265 

distance with the retrievers and the paraphernalia of 
the " shoot." 

After luncheon we followed the men through the 
garden and watched the shooting. The battue was 
arranged in such a beautiful setting along the arti- 
ficial water and down the long alleys of the park. 
Lord A., one of the best shots, asked me to stand 
behind him, so I had a good opportunity to see all 
that went on. There were stakes where each man 
had to stand, with his valet to load his gun for him. 
The beaters went through the underbrush with sticks 
and made the pheasants or partridges rise, then the 
gunner at his post had a chance to shoot. The men 
were so close together that they had to be careful 
to aim high in order to avoid hitting each other. 
It was unsportsmanlike to shoot a bird on the ground 
or sitting on a tree unless it had been wounded. It 
was pitiful to see the birds shot down and lying by 
the dozen wounded and fluttering. 

The Court Ball soon follows the presentation at 
Court, and this one proved more showy than usual 
because the Austrian Archduke was there and many 
foreign uniforms were worn in his honor. As L. 
and I again had the entree we got in comfortably 
and saw the General Circle coming in — the dukes 
and duchesses and marquises and so on down. 
Turning aside at the grand staircase we passed gen- 



266 ODD CORNERS 

tlemen-in-waiting and -at-arms and came to the 
throne room where all were gathering. Near the 
throne end were benches on which we sat when not 
standing for the King and Queen (which was most 
of the time), and watched the Court come In and 
the royal quadrille and the attempt at general danc- 
ing. I enjoyed the massed color of the uniforms 
and the dazzle of the decorations and superb jewels. 

The ball was very different from the presenta- 
tion, for at that there were mostly new people who 
had never been at Court, while here were all those 
as well who were expected to go as matter of 
course, so It was much more brilliant. 

The King and Queen opened the ball, walking in 
while the company all bowed or courtesied. His 
Majesty danced with his sister and the Queen with 
the Archduke of Austria. The lancers was made 
up principally of the royal family, but after this 
there was round dancing. A stand-up supper was 
served In a room nearby for the King and Queen 
and the Diplomatic Circle, with a splendid gold 
service and gold plates arranged on the wall. Then 
there was more dancing, and I thought their Maj- 
esties would never go. As a rule they retired early 
and went and played bridge, but this night they 
stayed till two o^clock, so of course we all had to 
stay, too. 

King Edward was dressed in the Austrian uni- 



IN AND OUT OF LONDON 267 

form out of compliment to the Archduke — a light 
blue coat with a red ribbon and orders. The Queen 
wore a black dress embroidered with roses, dia- 
monds on her neck, orders, and a tiara. The 
Duchess of Portland had the finest jewels, I 
thought, and the Duchess of Sutherland was ex- 
tremely pretty. It was all a very wonderful sight — 
but what a change today ! No one knows how long 
it will be before Austrians and English dance to- 
gether again. 




CHAPTER XIII 

CRUISING ON THE CATANIA 

I 

South of England 

URING the month of May, which is sup- 
posed to be the merriest in the British 
calendar, it occurred to us that a yachting 
cruise along the southern coast with 
visits to some of the outlying islands would round 
out the London season very delightfully. 

It proved possible to charter the steam yacht 
Catania from the Duke of Sutherland, and we 
found her a fine, comfortable boat. She was lying 
at Cowes when we first saw her, all spick and span 
in her new paint, and very well kept up because she 
had always been held in commission through the 
whole year and her complement of officers and men 
was specially good. Our red burgee with its black 
horse was hoisted and we began to feel that we 
" belonged." 

For a while we were content to lie quietly off the 

268 




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SOUTH OF ENGLAND 269 

lovely coast of the Isle of Wight. L. and I went 
ashore In the launch and landing at the jetty of the 
Royal Yacht Squadron started for a walk along the 
esplanade. This jetty had a little castle used as a 
clubhouse, with a bastion and tower embowered in 
Ivy, and a pretty lawn shaded with great trees. 
Behind the town were villas hidden in the green of 
trees and gardens, and further back the roofs of 
little houses peeped out from deeply follaged hill- 
sides. A winding road climbed away among them 
very begulllngly, then branched off into country lanes, 
and finally circled back into town again. 

One afternoon we weighed anchor for the first 
time and steamed down the Solent, round the Nee- 
dles, past Ventnor and Shanklln and Ryde, and 
then started off toward Cornwall, keeping well in 
shore. The high coast broke in a lovely valley 
down to the sea, where Lulworth Castle stood amid 
its peaceful lawns and Its park of spreading trees, 
all In the fair country of Dorset Passing in and 
out the breakwaters we rounded the Bill of Port- 
land and put to sea for the run across to Dartmouth. 

There Catania anchored In the perfect little har- 
bor formed by the mouth of the river Dart, with 
villas and hanging gardens almost within a biscuit's 
throw. In the afternoon the launch took us up the 
river to Totnes on the edge of Dartmoor, where 
the river narrows to a little stream with a pretty 



270 ODD CORNERS 

island in the center and the quaint town above. 
Going up and down there were picnic parties in 
boats and many fishermen seining and hauling. 

Torquay, where we went from Dartmouth on 
Whitmonday morning, was like a Riviera town with 
its gardens and its high-walled roadways climb- 
ing back from the sea, overhung with rich and al- 
most tropical foliage. Along the water's edge were 
a promenade and pleasure grounds, and a park 
beneath a high cliff, all planted with many-colored 
flowers. These places were crowded with holiday 
trippers — poor people, their holiday was soon 
turned to mourning by a bad change in the weather. 

It rained all the next day at Falmouth, but we 
spent the time on board in great peace and comfort 
in easy chairs before the little fire — for there was a 
delightful open grate that burned sweet-smelling 
lignumvitae. 

Our chief object in coming so far down the coast 
was to try and run out to the Scilly Islands. They 
can only be reached with pleasure in smooth seas, 
which are rare, and many ships have been wrecked 
there, so we decided to make a dash for them when 
the right time came. In view of these difficulties 
it was not surprising so few visitors went there. 

It was still rainy and stormy when our yacht left 
Falmouth, and the Captain expected to put into 
Penzance — though even that was dubious, as he 



SOUTH OF ENGLAND 271 

wasn't sure that Catania could get in at the right 
stage of tide. However, the sky began to brighten 
and the mists cleared, and the ruffled water smoothed 
out. Off the Lizard the Captain came aft and said 
he thought— perhaps — after all — if we wished it — 
he might get us out to the Scillys then. Of course 
we did wish it because that was our objective point. 

It was five o'clock of a peaceful and lovely after- 
noon when Catania came to anchor in the open 
roadstead between the islands. Very bare and un- 
attractive they look from a distance, but first 
appearances are nowhere more misleading than in 
the Scillys. Soon we were scurrying ashore in our 
launch to the quaint landing and walking along 
sweet-smelling paths to the Abbey House of the 
" lord of the isles," Mr. Smith-Dorrien-Smith. For 
these islands, so far out at sea, are crown property 
and form a distinct little community by themselves, 
a benevolent despotism with a Lord Proprietor to 
govern it. Mr. Smith, who inherited this office, 
had spied our yacht and politely sent out to invite 
us to land. 

His house stands near the ruins of the ancient 
Tresco Abbey, and has a charming outlook over 
the islands and the ocean with Its passing liners. 
The Lord Proprietor gave us tea on the terraces 
and then took us out through the gardens, which 
he showed us with a pride that we, with our little 



272 ODD CORNERS 

garden at home, could easily understand. But his 
was really one of the most wonderful in the world. 
To a charmingly arranged rock garden with rare 
clinging plants succeeded wall gardens, and alleys 
cut out in the Italian style, with vistas and great 
hedges all in bloom, and palms and rhododen- 
drons big as trees — everything, in fact, growing with 
the luxuriance of the tropics on this bleak, rocky 
island. It was a perfect little jungle, indeed, with 
fern trees and plantations of aloes and cactus and 
strange, fantastic plants from the south. The 
ruins of the old abbey, overgrown with vines, added 
the last touch of beauty. 

Although this curious spot is only a few miles off 
the coast of England, frost is unknown, because the 
Gulf Stream flows so near, and this accounts for 
the wealth of subtropical vegetation which has been 
made to grow there. The inhabitants, instead of 
being fishermen, as one would expect under the cir- 
cumstances, are gardeners. All winter they send 
in boatloads of flowers to the Covent Garden market 
— the islands are like gardens with their fields of 
narcissus and lilies. The place is a veritable para- 
dise planted in the sea. 

So we lingered there enchanted in the afternoon 
quiet, and left its fragrant shores reluctantly to glide 
out across the clear sparkling water to the ship. But 
the Captain was anxious to get away as quickly as 



SOUTH OF ENGLAND 273 

he could- — they say It is rare Indeed that they have 
such a perfect day there, for when the weather Is 
quiet It Is generally foggy, and when It Isn't foggy 
it blows. 

As It was, we were just in time. Passing out 
through the narrow channels, Catania slipped back 
toward Land's End across a glassy ocean that was 
flooded by moonlight, with flashing lighthouses and 
the twinkling lights of little fishing boats, but — ran 
into a fog before midnight. She dropped her 
ancho-r in Mount's Bay, off Penzance, because the 
mists and tides in these parts are so treacherous that 
she did not dare venture far In shore. Today, with 
the U-boats for an added peril in these waters, 
sailors have indeed a dangerous time of It, God 
bless them! 

This bay is a good example of the splendid 
scenery which has made the Cornish coast so fa- 
mous. On this morning after our return from the 
Scillys it was all misty and gray, with St. Michael's 
Mount looming up out of the water, its sides cov- 
ered with flowers and foliage. It makes a very at- 
tractive medieval picture with the castle on Its sum- 
mit and the few little houses down at the water's 
edge. 

As soon as the tide was up the launch sped over to 
the huge rock and into a pretty little port at Its foot. 
Scrambling up the slippery steps where the cottages 



274 ODD CORNERS 

of the fisher folk are, we came to a porter's lodge 
and learned that at noon a party might be taken up 
to the terrace and chapel. 

Climbing the old rock is a steep causeway that 
is almost lost beneath a mat of moss and ferns and 
bluebells. Great fields of blue gentian and rhodo- 
dendron stretch away on either hand, and rabbits 
hop out of their holes to eye the stranger. Crown- 
ing the Mount are the ruins of ancient battlements, 
and part of the original abbey is still included in the 
castle of the present owner, Lord St. Levan. Pass- 
ing through crumbling archways and old fortifica- 
tions, one comes to the postern gate, some two hun- 
dred feet above the sea. 

My husband sent in his card to Lady St. Levan, 
who received us in the drawing-room and had us 
shown through the place. The low-studded, deep- 
embrasured Gothic rooms of the old abbey looked 
very homelike with their fresh chintzes; the dining- 
room had been the old refectory of the monks. Lady 
St. Levan was a nice old dear and very civil to us. 

Meanwhile Catania had been taken into the flood 
dock at Penzance, for the tide goes so far out over 
the sands that otherwise she would have had to lie 
in the roads and take her chances with the weather. 
Staying there alongside the dock almost in the heart 
of the town was an amusing and yet rather trying 
experience, for crowds came down to look at the 




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SOUTH OF ENGLAND 275 

yacht and wandered back and forth along the quay 
staring at us. 

Having long since accustomed ourselves to wet 
weather we thought nothing of the rain, and taking 
a carriage drove off through the lower town and out 
the promenade to Newlyn, a place much frequented 
by artists, then up the cliffs and so across the beauti- 
ful Cornish country. It was rolling, and gay with 
English daisies, lilacs, buttercups, pink and white 
hawthorn, and many other flowers whose names I 
did not know. The views widened as we drove out 
toward the high coast, where broken headlands jut 
out into the ocean. 

From Trereen, with a dear old salty fisherman 
for guide, we walked across the delicious moors to 
a fantastic point where, on a little hidden beach, the 
Pirates of Penzance might easily have rehearsed 
their opera. From there we followed along the 
cliffs, high above the breaking blue sea, till we 
found our carriage again and drove on to Land's 
End. 

All this part of England Is famous In song and 
story. The scene of Tristan and Isolde was laid 
somewhere In Cornwall; St. Michael's Mount Is the 
place where Jack the Giant Killer slew great Cor- 
moran, while just over the hills Is St. Ives. (One 
surely has not forgotten about the man with seven 
wives.) There are crosses and Druid stones, and 



276 ODD CORNERS 

the remains of a Roman road are still to be seen. 
It is " old England," indeed. 

Our last trip in English waters was a little run 
down to the Channel Islands, where we had the 
luck to be stormbound in the quaint miniature har- 
bor of St. Peter's Port, in Guernsey, the loveliest 
of them all. The port looked quite too small to 
take so large a boat into, but the Captain had sent 
ashore and made inquiries of the harbor master and 
had decided to try it. So with a very pretty piece 
of seamanship he took us in the narrow entrance, 
threading his way among small boats and yachts, 
and dropped anchor in a cosy corner. 

From our berth below the ancient walls of Castle 
Cornet (part of which goes back to Roman times), 
we could look up shaded roadways with villas set 
In flowering gardens, to villages beyond. St. Peter's 
Port proved larger than we expected, with its 
arcaded flower market and fish market and its streets 
and shops down by the harbor. Driving out through 
lanes with overhanging hedges and arching trees to 
the cliffs, we saw the pretty bays of Moulin Huet 
and Le Gouffre. 

The sea was still so rough next morning, and we 
were so afraid of being delayed by fog, that we did 
not visit Jersey as we had hoped to do, but returned 
to Cowes to make ready for a long trip north to the 
land of the midnight sun. 



CHAPTER XIV 

CRUISING ON THE CATANIA — (Continued) 

II 

Kiel and the Edge of Denmark 

"Like dusky green horses with manes of silver 
The white curling billows were rearing and plunging; 
As swans in flight, with shimmering sails 
The Heligolanders went gliding by, 
The daring North Sea rovers!" 

Heine. 

EHOLD us at anchor in the midst of a 
fleet of splendid German warships as- 
sembled at Kiel to greet the English 
king! Coming out of the canal through 
the locks at Holtenau, Catania suddenly passed into 
the very midst of the squadron and through them 
to her anchorage. How times have changed! 

Our first night out from Harwich the wind blew 
in the right direction, so that we had a good pas- 
sage over the North Sea and in due time picked up 
our pilot and entered the Elbe. Near the entrance 
of the canal Catania tied up to let the racing yachts 
of the German Emperor and Empress go by, towed 

^77 




278 ODD CORNERS 

by torpedo boats. Both were of American build and 
were named Meteor and lunda — the latter used to 
be called the Yampa. Next morning found us 
starting on our trip through the Kaiser Wilhelm 
Kanal. 

As everyone knows, this joins the Baltic to the 
North Sea in a very convenient manner. Part of 
the way it passes almost higher than the country on 
either side and gives wide views of pastures and 
peat bogs, with hills in the distance and scattered 
thatch-roofed cottages. In one place there were 
some extraordinary iron structures, possibly built to 
obstruct the canal in time of war. Then the banks 
rose higher and there were terraces with gardens 
and happy Germans drinking beer. It was a Sun- 
day afternoon and they were in good humor and 
cheered us as we steamed by. Near the Baltic end 
of the passage the scenery grew park-like. At last 
we reached the end and after going through another 
lock found ourselves, as I have said, in the midst of 
the assembled fleet. 

Before our engines had fairly stopped we were 
boarded by a little German officer who presented, in 
the very poorest English, the compliments of Prince 
Henry, and showed us where to anchor. 

Kiel Harbor was a wonderful sight. Besides the 
German warships there were a number of American 
yachts — the Warrior, just built, belonging to Mr. 



KIEL AND EDGE OF DENMARK 279 

Fred Vanderbilt, the North Star, to Mr. Cornelius 
Vanderbilt, Mr. Armour's Utowana, and Mrs. Goe- 
let's boat, Nahma. They made a fine showing, even 
among the score or more of great men-of-war which 
looked so huge and formidable with their drab paint 
and threatening guns. 

The boarding officer had told us that the Em- 
peror was to arrive through the canal that after- 
noon at five, so we decorated — as did the other 
yachts — in spite of the drizzly weather. Some of 
the boats, besides being decorated, were lighted up 
at night, though the grand illumination was reserved 
for the coming of the King of England a few days 
later. 

Sure enough, at five o'clock the tall masts of the 
Hohenzollern loomed above the locks of the canal, 
and soon the big white yacht came majestically forth 
amid the booming of guns and roars of cheering. 
The yards of the white training ships were all 
manned and the sides of the warships were lined 
with the assembled crews. As the Hohenzollern 
passed down the long array each ship fired off 
twenty-one guns. It was like a battle — the har- 
bor was filled with smoke and flashes of cannon, 
and the noise was deafening. It was a splendid 
welcome. 

Just as the smoke cleared away the sun came out 
and shone upon the imperial yacht with its one little 



28o ODD CORNERS 

solitary figure posed on a bridge high above the 
others. The Emperor had come to Kiel. 

During Kiel Week the town was at its gayest, 
crowded with holiday makers and thronged with 
visitors, who stood on the quays and promenades 
and gazed with respectful awe upon the Hohen- 
zollern and the warships. Bands played in the gar- 
dens and on board the ships, and it was all quite 
stirring. 

No wonder the Emperor delighted to honor 
Americans in those days, for they were certainly the 
making of Kiel Week. It gave one a thrill of pride 
to see the American yachts towering above the other 
craft and flying our flag so high. The English made 
a meager show in comparison, both in numbers and 
style. The Catania was by far the best of all those 
flying the English ensign. As for the Dutch and 
French, they were but little toy ships. 

We went out in our launch to see the start of the 
day's racing, which was for the larger type of sail- 
ing yachts. It was very beautiful when they spread 
their great white wings to an ideal sailing breeze 
and set out on the long reach to sea. The first 
flight was of the biggest ones, and then every five 
minutes — to the booming of guns — others went over 
the line, smaller and smaller ones every time till all 
had got away. Soon the launches that had gone 
out as we had to see the start came scurrying back 




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KIEL AND EDGE OF DENMARK 281 

to their ships like little chickens seeking the old 
hen's wing. 

Among the big boats was the American yacht 
Ingomar, which was treated in a very unsportsman- 
like manner. In the Helgoland race she came in two 
hours ahead of all the others, but had been so 
handicapped out of all chance of victory that the 
prize went to a boat to which she had allowed seven 
hours. Then in the Cuxhaven races she was work- 
ing out to windward and forging ahead of the Em- 
peror's boat when — after the start of the race — - 
they actually changed the course ! They did signal 
her, but she could not understand such tactics and 
so was beaten. In another race she was catching 
up with the Emperor's yacht when the latter tried 
to force her about without having the right of way. 
The Ingomar gave way to prevent a collision, but 
ran up a protest flag. The imperial yacht, " in a 
spirit of true sportsmanship," gave up the race — 
to escape being disquahfied. In spite of all this, 
the Ingomar did win several races because they 
really couldn't prevent it. 

As we left Kiel on our cruise to Norway the racing 
yachts were returning, many of them in a wrecked 
condition, for it had blown great guns and they had 
had a bad time. 

A six hours' run to the northward, skirting pretty 
Danish islands with unpronounceable names, brought 



282 ODD CORNERS 

us in the afternoon into the harbor of Nyborg on 
the island of Funan. While some of us lingered 
round the little red-roofed town with its remains of 
an old palace and a Gothic church, L. telephoned 
to our old friend Comtesse de Moltke at Glorup and 
got a cordial invitation to come up and stay as long 
as we could, which unfortunately could only be a 
single day. 

We took a midday train on the private railway 
that ran out toward Oxendrup; it appeared that 
they had not had so many first-class passengers for 
two years as our little party of six — in fact, they 
hadn^t tickets enough to go round ! After traveling 
in an informal, go-as-you-please manner for half an 
hour we came to the station, where an exceedingly 
well-turned-out brake and four-in-hand was waiting. 
The coachman whistled a tune to his horses when 
they misbehaved, and had a long flowing beard which 
was a source of great amusement to us. 

After driving for some time through the fair and 
smiling country we finally reached a grand avenue 
of plane trees, passed a handsome lodge all over- 
grown with vines, and went on to the forecourt of 
a white house, then under a gateway, and into the 
main court of Glorup. There the Comte and Com- 
tesse de Moltke were waiting on the broad steps to 
welcome us, with the house servants all standing 
about. 



KIEL AND EDGE OF DENMARK 283 

I had heard that Glorup was one of the finest 
places in Denmark and that its garden was famous. 
The house itself was not imposing, though homelike 
and pleasant. But the park and garden were very 
beautiful and extensive. 

From the fagade beyond the courtyard there was 
a parquet and terrace with bright, fancifully ar- 
ranged flower-beds that reached down to an artificial 
pool stretching far back about a circular island, on 
which there were terraces of steps and a fountain 
that threw up a great spray between two magnificent 
chestnuts. Beyond the pool could be seen a French 
garden with more flowers, and paths among statues 
and parquets. All this was framed by the splendid 
trees of a park. 

The country beyond, so much of which belonged 
to the de Moltkes, was rolling, with farms and 
forests. The Danes, we heard, were so prosperous 
that they would not work in the fields, and Poles 
were hired to gather in the crops. 

Glorup was a remarkably fine place, with all the 
elegances and discomforts of foreign life. Alto- 
gether we had a most delightful day there, and 
after dinner (it was still light, though past ten 
o'clock) regretfully said good-by and took the little 
go-as-you-please train back to Nyborg and the yacht. 



CHAPTER XV 

CRUISING ON THE CATANIA— (Continued) 




III 



In Norwegian Waters 

ROSSING from Denmark over to Goth- 
enburg, we left Catania and took a canal 
boat for the trip across Sweden to Stock- 
holm. It was a nice boat with a pleasant 
captain and tiny but comfortable staterooms. The 
food was good, with much smoked salmon, reindeer 
meat, goose liver and delicious brown bread and 
butter. The hors d'oeuvre or smorgasbord was the 
great feature of the meals and each passenger 
helped himself from a side table before beginning 
dinner. 

This water route across the peninsula was made 
by connecting a number of lakes with canals. There 
were often so many locks that we could get out and 
walk without any danger of the boat passing us. 
Pretty islands dotted the different lakes. Lake 
Venern and the Trollhattan Falls were quite fine, 

284 



IN NORWEGIAN WATERS 285 

and the fiords as we drew near Stockholm were gay 
with villas. 

Because of Its many waterways the Swedish capital 
Is called the Venice of the North, and some trav- 
elers consider It the most beautiful city In Europe, 
but Bayard Taylor objected to Its comparison with 
Venice. " It Is not that swan of the Adriatic, sing- 
ing her death-song In the purple sunset," he wrote, 
" but a northern eaglet, nested on the Islands and 
rocky shores of the pale green Malar lake." The 
city has fine buildings, wide streets, nice parks and 
bridges and many restaurants with music. The 
opera house and palace were especially handsome, 
and the King's throne, made of silver, with a curtain 
of blue brocade above It, was quite lovely and regal. 

From Stockholm we traveled across country to 
Trondhjem where we were to rejoin the Catania 
after a week's separation. The scenery along the 
way was pretty, very much like New Hampshire 
with Its hills and farms and Its great forests of 
straight pines. As we got Into Norway there was 
a string of lakes with waterfalls, and the high moun- 
tains were tipped with snow. 

Trondhjem, for all Its thousand years of history, 
was still a growing town, and not a very Interesting 
one In spite of Its famous cathedral. This Is very 
old, but it has been changed so much that It does 
not show its age at all and Is quite ugly. 



286 ODD CORNERS 

Slipping out from Trondhjem in the afternoon 
light we coasted along the fiords between great 
green hills and high pointed peaks and kept on 
without a stop, for we wanted to reach the North 
Cape as soon as possible in order to see the mid- 
night sun at its best; there would be time enough on 
the way back to visit the points of interest along this 
wonderful Norwegian coast. 

Soon Catania was in Arctic waters. Some of our 
party claimed they felt the bump as we crossed the 
Arctic Circle. For two days we cruised through the 
wondrous fiords which are within the " outer coast " 
— through narrow channels between towering pali- 
sades and mountains — magnificent shores that come 
straight down Into the deep waters, their peaks 
cloud-capped and their sides streaked with the silver 
of tumbling waterfalls. Every now and then came 
the cold blue-green of glaciers creeping toward the 
sea. It was a splendid panorama. 

There Is no darkness at all at this season — at 
midnight It Is as bright as day. For several months 
In these latitudes they do not light a lamp on ship 
or shore. The lighthouses simply go out of business. 
So we soon lost track of time, sleeping when we 
felt like It and waking when we pleased. 

The ninth of July found us lying snugly at anchor 
In a small harbor beneath the North Cape. Here 
our pilots — two dear old picturesque Norwegians — 



IN NORWEGIAN WATERS 287 

brought us to be comfortable for the night. It was 
still cloudy and misty when we went out next morn- 
ing, but that made the cliffs and the jagged sides of 
the islands all the more mysterious. On a rock 
perched millions of terns and gulls, with thousands 
more circling in flight above them. When we slowed 
down and blew our whistle sharply, great flocks of 
them flew out, darkening the sky and filling the air 
with their cries. 

After skirting the Cape we dropped anchor to 
wait and see the sun at midnight. When we finally 
did, it was really quite dramatic. That afternoon 
we took the launch and crossed to the landing, where 
the steep zigzag climb up through the deep ravine 
ends on the plateau of the North Cape, which is flat 
and dreary. Crossing this broad, high land to the 
extreme point, we looked out over the trackless 
waters of the Arctic Ocean, where a tiny speck of 
a steamer that the naked eye could scarcely see was 
passing on its way to some bleak Russian port. But 
the horizon was still heavy with fog and a mist came 
drifting over the headlands beyond, so we felt there 
was little chance of a sun that night and went down 
the path among the anemones and violets and the 
sea pinks, listening to the sobbing waves far 
below. 

But after dinner, about eleven, our launch started 
out again to give us a look at a tourist steamer that 



288 ODD CORNERS 

had arrived. Most of its passengers had gone 
ashore, so we went on a bit farther, and lay pitch- 
ing Idly In the swell, undecided what to do next. 
Just then the clouds broke and behold! the full 
glory of the midnight sun — dazzling and unexpected, 
for a moment only, exactly at twelve o'clock. 

Having accomplished our purpose, we scooted 
back to the yacht, got up steam and in an hour were 
off with a jump. Next day we looked In at Ham- 
merfest and had a chance to see this most northern 
town In the world. Our next stop was at Lyngen- 
fiord, in a bay like an enclosed lake with mountains 
on all sides. These were many thousands of feet 
high and streaked with snow, but their bases were 
green with the strangely rich vegetation that grows 
in Arctic regions during the short summer. We 
seemed to have come back from the ends of the 
earth, for the North Cape Is the great jumplng- 
off place. 

Landing at a tiny village at the edge of the fiord, 
where there were two or three houses and a small 
church, we walked several miles into the country, 
where a glacier was creeping down, to the mound- 
like dwellings of a settlement of Laplanders. Some 
of these houses were roofed only with tents, and 
whole families lived in them along with their dogs. 
Fires were burning Inside, and women sewing away 
on bags of deerskin, and men carving bone into forks 



IN NORWEGIAN WATERS 289 

and spoons for tourists to buy. These carved bone 
articles are about all they have to barter. 

The Lapps are an Inferior race, undersized and 
stupid. I had supposed that they were all dark- 
haired and flat-faced, but to my surprise found that 
many of them had red hair and pointed noses. 
Their dress, though filthy, was gay and picturesque 
— skins set off by trimmings of braid and bright flan- 
nel. Their tunics were usually edged with red or 
yellow, and their legs were bound about with 
leather. Odd caps and belts gave them a comical 
appearance. These people do not migrate, and the 
women are reported to have more than one husband. 

It was not long before reindeer were seen com- 
ing down the steep sides of the mountain, where 
they were being herded and driven in for us to see 
• — they were smaller and more moth-eaten cattle 
than I had expected. The dogs and reindeer are 
used with the sleds in winter, but In the summer the 
deer are put out to feed and are milked only twice 
a week. 

A fine storm came up, so we scurried back to the 
ship and all that afternoon steamed out through the 
fiord. One glacier after another wound slowly to- 
ward the shore, which so few of them ever reach. 
Very solemn and cold they looked with snowstorms 
raging high above them. 

A quotation from my husband's journal gives a 



290 ODD CORNERS 

glimpse of Ofoten Fiord. " Just before us the 
mighty rock of Frostisen rises up into the clouds, 
out of which the branches of its enormous glacier 
seem to come. The water of the fiord is as smooth 
as glass and reflects everything. Two small boys 
in a cranky boat are rowing round us — they have 
come out from a house on the shore, a house that 
looks so tiny and almost lost beneath the towering 
mountain. The roar of falling cataracts echoes 
across the bay, and every now and then the clouds 
lift or swirl away and we can get a glimpse of the 
glory of the glacier. Under the sun's rays great 
pieces break off and come tumbling over the steep, 
dark side. But our weather is still cloudy, with pass- 
ing mists and rains which seem to add to the gran- 
deur of the places." 

After Ofoten Fiord the weather turned " dirty " 
and we ran into the Lofoten Islands for shelter, 
twisting our way out from the cup of deep waters 
hidden between the domes of rock. When we turned 
and had the gale favoring us it was more comfort- 
able, and the yacht made its way into the Raftsund 
and dropped two anchors in a hurry in a tiny bay 
at the foot of Digermulen. This I think is the high 
point from which the panorama of Norwegian 
scenery was painted for the Paris Exposition. On 
the summit of Dig was the Kaiser's hut, where that 
ubiquitous monarch used to come every year. In- 



IN NORWEGIAN WATERS 291 

deed, he was expected when we were there. But 
there was Httle for us to see, for the mountain was 
wrapped in clouds of whirUng mists, and we were 
glad to sit out the evening before the fire in the 
cosy cabin below and forget the gale. 

After tiffin next day we explored a branch of the 
beautiful Raftsund, and later steamed into the 
bay at the foot of the wonderful Svartisen glacier. 
The ice seemed to come down into the sea, but on 
landing we found a moraine of rocks and sand 
across its base piled in deep ravines through which 
muddy snow-water was cascading. Climbing among 
the blocks of ice gave us lots of fun and exercise. 

Trondhjem was reached on the evening of July 
nineteenth. Near us a huge tourist ship bound 
north, a yacht and a warship lay at anchor. Ap- 
parently few yachts go farther north than Tron- 
dhjem, for we saw and heard of only two. The 
Kaiser was expected that evening. We went ashore 
for dinner and were made very comfortable at a 
good hotel while the boat coaled. It poured and 
was cold all the next day, so the Catanians — or 
North Capers, as we sometimes called ourselves — 
splattered about and shopped. After that came two 
glorious days of sunshine, but on the whole we had 
had more midnight suns than midday ones in north- 
ern Norway, for our weather had been really bad. 

Getting away from Trondhjem in the afternoon, 



292 ODD CORNERS 

we cruised out, passing the Kaiser's yacht and its 
escort. It was a fine sight to see the Hohenzollern 
— an ugly great ship, but impressive- — with a big 
warship and a little fleet of torpedo boats and dis- 
patch boats scooting about. Soon, tagging after, 
came the American yachts, the Warrior and the 
Margarita, " in attendance.'* 

Our next stop was off Molde. This was a cheer- 
ful little town with flags flying and flimsy-looking 
hotels. 

From there we made our way in toward the 
famous Romsdal, the passage becoming more nar- 
row and the mountains on each side more grand. 
Soon we came to anchor off Aandalsnaes, where a 
fleet of tourist steamers lay. 

Here we had a never-to-be-forgotten drive up a 
pleasant valley with tiny farms and a rushing river, 
beneath trees, and between pastures of many-colored 
flowers. One of our party counted thirty varieties of 
little flowers that grow wild here and are cultivated at 
home. On each side as we went along the preci- 
pices and mountains grew higher and higher till at 
Horgheim the magnificent crests were five and six 
thousand feet above us on each side. It was 
Indescribably fine to watch the light from the set- 
ting sun, and then the wonderful pink of the sun- 
rise, coming so shortly after, on the towering snow- 
capped peaks about us. 



IN NORWEGIAN WATERS 293 

On the way back there was a procession of tour- 
ists in their amusing little carrioles. Every view 
was on such an enormous scale (the palisades of 
the fiords were as high as Mount Washington) that 
the steamers and their trippers were simply not 
seen. 

Catania got away early and had a fine clear 
day such as our pilot said he had not seen for a 
long time. We steamed on between islands, past 
Aalsund, into the Storfiord and Slingsfiord and so 
into the Geiranger. It all grew more and more 
wonderful and stupendous. The canyons narrowed 
and the huge cliffs and mighty mountains lifted 
above us, till we seemed to be cruising in a bottom- 
less channel between peaks that went thousands of 
feet straight up into the sky and thousands of feet 
straight down into the water. 

For all they were so nearly perpendicular, the 
mountainsides were green and wooded. Houses 
were perched here and there in most aerial places 
and through our glasses we could spy tiny specks of 
people farming and raking hay, though it nearly 
broke our necks to look so high. 

Leaving Merok early next morning we were put 
ashore at a little town called Hellesult, where we 
took carrioles and began the climb over the moun- 
tains while the boat left us to go round by open sea. 
Our road zigzagged up a ravine with a splendid cas- 



294 ODD CORNERS 

cade that came tumbling down, of the crystal-clear 
water that is so characteristic of Norway. Soon we 
were going through valleys between white-capped 
mountains, passing turf-roofed farmhouses with 
flowers and sometimes even pine trees growing out of 
their roofs, while their walls were stuffed with moss 
for warmth. The peasants were all at work haying 
and stacking their grass on hurdles. They had small 
white cattle and buckskin ponies. Every now and 
then a chill wind cut down upon us from some gla- 
cier valley. 

Descending to where the fine lake of Hornindal 
lay, we had luncheon at a little inn on its shore. 
Afterward, following a splendidly engineered road 
cut out of the palisades along the lake side — as 
good a road as one might find on the Riviera — we 
began to climb over other ranges, then zigzagged 
down to Faleide, a tiny place with a tiny hotel on 
the Nordfiord. There we settled ourselves with 
the idea that the yacht would not come by to pick 
us up till late. But as we sat at supper we heard 
the whistle which had become so familiar, and just 
off the little pier came the Catania, looking very 
handsome, and in a jiffy her launch was putting 
ashore for us. So we hurried aboard, for even the 
fascination of the hotel could not rival the com- 
forts of home. 

A little after noon next day we went ashore again 



IN NORWEGIAN WATERS 295 

and took carrioles up a canyon to a lake among the 
mountains. L. chartered a launch there, and we 
made the trip to the head of the deep lake and up a 
mighty gorge to visit another glacier. Some of 
its branches flow between the peaks, but here it 
creeps along as a high blue-gray-green wall with 
deep grottoes out of which pour the streams of 
glacier water. 

Night found us once more on the Catania, lying 
far down in the shadow of the Naerofiord, at anchor 
off the tiny place of Gudvangen — a little huddle of 
houses that do not see the sun all winter long, so 
deep and narrow is the chasm there. High up on 
the palisades we could see the gorgeous reflections 
of the sunset, and a little while before that a rain- 
bow had tinted a cascade of spray. 

Now that we were having such ideal yachting 
weather we were grateful for having had our stormy 
times in the north, where the clouds and storm 
make those severe coasts all the grander. Farther 
south, where the fiords are more smiling and in- 
habited and fertile, we were glad of the sun to show 
off the lovely tints. 

Catania left Loen in the early morning and cruised 
along into the Sognefiord, and later came to anchor 
in a little bay, within a biscuit's throw of Balholm, 
the chosen place of artists. Ashore, what with the 
good folks in their Sunday best taking a holiday, 



296 ODD CORNERS 

and the trees that really shaded, and the orchards 
with actual fruit, it was quite enchanting. Indeed, 
the fruits and flowers at this blessed place are won- 
derful. I have never seen finer strawberries, while 
the roses over the garden fences were so splendid we 
couldn't help picking them. 

Bergen, our next port, proved full of surprises. 
Built on its seven hills like Rome, it looked very 
picturesque with its warehouses and ancient fortifi- 
cations of the time of the Hanseatic League. The 
smell of fish pervaded everything — even the clothes 
from the laundry and the water in our baths. 

Having to coal, we spent the night at a hotel and 
passed the evening at an open-air cafe. It was St. 
Olaf's night, and bonfires were burning on the hills, 
while the people danced or strolled along the 
shore. Next day we saw the German church that 
dates from the eleventh century, and Rosencrantz's 
Tower, also of the olden times, and the museum of 
the Hanseatic League — both this building and its 
contents date back to that far distant period. There 
were other museums, too, and parks, and an aqua- 
rium, and many nice houses with gardens, and 
antiquity shops — and fish markets. The weather 
was so delightfully warm that we could sit on deck, 
and the men wore their white jackets for dinner. 

Cruising out into an arm of the Hardanger 
we arrived early the following morning at Vik, 



IN NORWEGIAN WATERS 297 

where the Vikings are supposed to have come from. 
I don't think the place is often visited by yachts, 
from the trouble we had anchoring. Some of us 
started off in the strange vehicles of the country 
with their tireless little horses, and drove along a 
road cut out of the overhanging precipices. It 
wound up through a canyon and finally became so 
bad that one or two of us got out and walked, 
while others rode sure-footed ponies; the trails were 
like those of California. At the end of it all was a 
splendid waterfall, the Voringfos, said to be the 
finest in Norway, but seldom visited. 

From Vik and Odde we steamed along till we 
came of a late afternoon to Stavanger. Our ap- 
proach to the town was much more picturesque than 
we had been led to expect. We soon went ashore 
and wandered up its strange streets In the long twi- 
light, delighted by the sights— the ancient church 
with its rich carved pulpit, the little parks, and most 
of all, the people going about in their simple way. 

Morning found us at the head of the desolate 
Lysefiord, and after another night at Stavanger we 
put out to sea for the run to Christianla. In spite 
of the fact that we were in the terrible North Sea 
it was a glorious day, smooth and hot and perfect 
for yachting. So in a day and a night we came to 
the Norwegian capital, arriving through the low- 
lying fiords that look so like the Maine coast. 



298 ODD CORNERS 

Chrlstlanla was a surprise, being more of a city, and 
a more important one, than had been expected. 

The expedition ended a few days later at Amster- 
dam. We said good-by to Catania, and the wander- 
ing Black Horse in the Red Field was hauled down 
after another cruise. 



CHAPTER XVI 

CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 

Russia, O my Russia, hail ! 

Steeds as tempests flying, 

Howling of the distant wolves, 

Eagles high, shrill crying! 

Hail, my Russia, hail! Hail high! 

Hail thy green forests proud, 

Hail thy silvery nightingales, 

Hail steppes and wind and cloud!" 

Tolstoy. 

EAVING France one December night we 
set out on our long journey across two 
continents. The first day took us into 
German Poland, where the trees were 
planted in neat rows and the fields were cultivated 
in the careful German fashion. Russian Poland, 
which followed presently, was not so well kept up, 
and further north the landscape grew flat and 
dreary. 

On the platform at Warsaw, where we changed 
cars, there were quantities of long-haired, long- 
nosed and long-robed people. Among our fellow 
travelers every possible nationality was represented. 
Our compartment was invaded by a Chinaman who 
insisted that he, his wife and their three children, 

299 



1 


1 


"~~" 





300 ODD CORNERS 

not to mention their servants and all their luggage, 
had a perfect right to stay there. Fortunately he 
was persuaded to withdraw and finally the man, his 
family, and their pots, pans and servants, were all 
stowed safely away in one stateroom. The little 
wife was quite attractive; she wore the costume of 
her country on the train, but whenever she stepped 
out on the platform put on a long sealskin coat and 
a hat of the latest Parisian style. 

The following day everything was white with 
snow — even the pine trees were laden with it. 
Through clouds of smoke from the engine one 
caught glimpses of a glistening, fairy-like country 
and of many big estates with their pleasant houses 
and little villages. At sundown the train pulled into 
Moscow. 

Our attention was immediately called to the use 
of the passport, for we could not get a room at the 
hotel or even register our names without showing 
our credentials. The hotels turned out to be fine 
and large, but you may be sure L. and I did not 
linger in our rooms, for we were too curious to see 
the wonders of this extraordinary city. 

At first sight Moscow is really amazing. The 
green tiled roofs of the houses give an instant's im- 
pression of the sea rolling in. But above them rise 
the towers of many churches, each capped by a 
bulbous dome; these are so like onions and pine- 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 301 

apples that they make you think of nothing so much 
as a vegetable garden growing in cloud land. Then 
you are astonished to discover great Chinese walls, 
which some say are a souvenir of the Mongolian 
invasion away back in the dim ages. There are 
many other amazing things about Moscow, too. 
One of them is that nightmare of a birthday cake, 
the church of St. Basil. No wonder Ivan the Ter- 
rible had the architect's eyes put out when it was 
finished, you think, and then someone tells you that 
it was done as a precaution, lest the unfortunate 
man should build another as wonderful as this. 

Ivan earned his name, " The Terrible," by many 
cruelties during the last ten years of his reign, 
among them the murder of his eldest son in a fit of 
fury. But he was a very remarkable man for all 
that. It has been said that " he was the best edu- 
cated and hardest worked man of his age. His 
memory was astonishing, his energy indefatigable." 
He was the first ruler who dared assume the title of 
Czar of the Muscovites, being crowned in Moscow 
In 1547. His reign began well, with a public con- 
fession of all his sins. Then he called together all 
the suitable maidens of his realm and chose one 
from among them to be his wife. While she lived 
he was a model ruler, but after her death he mar- 
ried four or five times and his career of crime com- 
menced. 



302 ODD CORNERS 

The marvelous Kremlin was partly built by this 
same Ivan. It is a walled fortress containing a city 
of palaces, churches and barracks. A visit to it 
is an endurance test. After several hours of 
sightseeing there I went out with so many pic- 
tures coming and going before my eyes that it 
seemed impossible even to hope to describe 
them. 

In front of the citadel is a red square, the color 
signifying not only blood but something great and 
fine. It was in a tower overlooking this square that 
Ivan the Terrible loved to watch the executions he 
had ordered. 

We entered the treasury of the Kremlin first, 
through a hall with old armor. To the left was a 
huge museum filled with gorgeous things presented 
to Russia by different countries — Sevres china from 
France, an enormous ivory eagle from Japan, and 
so on. Here also were the magnificent crown jewels, 
many of them from the Ural Mountains — a ruby as 
big as your fist, topazes, sapphires, diamonds, lapis 
lazuli and malachite — which played so great a part 
in the royal costumes. These, with the swords, dag- 
gers and horse trappings, made a matchless display, 
reminding one of the treasures of India. The 
jeweled saddles of gold cloth and velvet and enamel 
were beyond belief. There were superb plates of 
silver and gold for the bread and cellars for the 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 303 

salt, which were given by loyal Russians to the Czar 
in token of homage. 

The royal carriages shown there are equaled 
nowhere except in Spain — many of them very 
rococo, with gilded Cupids. One sleigh in which 
Catherine the Great lived and traveled for thirty 
days was fitted up like a room or a modern motor. 
The small wooden bed of Peter the Great and the 
seven-league boots that he made for himself were 
also there. The beds of these ancient heroes did 
not suggest that they were such huge men of the 
north as I had supposed, but that they were, indeed, 
rather undersized. 

Peter was the first of the Russian monarchs to 
introduce Western civilization into his realm. He 
was a reformer as well as a fighter, and was pro- 
claimed Father of the Fatherland and Emperor of 
all Russia. During his reign, which began in 1696, 
territory was added in all directions and the city of 
Petrograd was founded. Catherine I, his second 
wife, had a remarkable career, for she began life 
as the daughter of a poor yeoman, was brought up 
by a Protestant minister, married a Swedish dra- 
goon, and— when the Russians conquered Marien- 
burg — became prisoner and was sold to a general. 
Peter the Great met her at the general's house, fell 
in love with her, and eventually divorced his wife 
to marry her. She established the Russian Acad- 



304 ODD CORNERS 

emy of Sciences and sent out the fleet under Bering 
which resulted in the discovery of Alaska. 

In the museum they also showed us the famous 
ivory throne of Ivan III, brought from Constan- 
tinople in 1472 by his bride, Sophie Palaeologus, 
and the czarinas have always sat on it for their 
coronation. Perhaps no other may ever have that 
privilege, so I give an account here of the last 
coronation, written by Louise Creighton. It is hard 
for one who has seen Russia to imagine it a republic. 

'' In the great courtyard [of the Kremlin] were 
erected stages in which were placed the Russian 
nobles," she writes; '' and in front of them the rep- 
resentatives of the various Eastern peoples under 
the Emperor's sway. The Ameer of Bokhara and 
the Khan of Khiva sat with Oriental impassiveness, 
clad in magnificent brocades of red and green. 
Roman Catholic archbishops, Armenian patriarchs, 
Lutheran superintendents sat side by side. Next to 
them were lamas from the Tibetan provinces, 
resplendent in yellow satin, with curious metal head- 
dresses, and Mussulmans from the Caucasus in 
more familiar attire. In the adjoining stage were 
Russian nuns, whose somber black costume formed 
a strong contrast. Beyond were rows of school 
children, representing various charitable institutions. 
In the open square were members of Industrial 
guilds, who sat upon the ground with patience 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 305 

awaiting the arrival of the procession. . . . The 
clergy and the choir preceded the Emperor into the 
church. The bells suddenly ceased to ring, and 
caused a strange sense of silence, in which was heard 
floating through the air the strains of the ' Te 
Deum.' . . . The Emperor and Empress advanced 
under a velvet canopy, their path was sprinkled with 
holy water. . . . The dark uniform of the Emperor 
and the white dress of the Empress,* whose hair 
hung in plaits on either shoulder, were the simplest 
costumes in the building. 

" The bishop of St. Petersburg, with his hands 
placed crosswise on the Emperor's bowed head, 
prayed : ' Make Thy faithful servant, the mighty 
Lord Nicholas Alexandrovitch, whom Thou hast set 
as Emperor over Thy people, worthy to be anointed 
with the oil of gladness; clothe him with power 
from on high; set upon his head a crown of pre- 
cious stones, and bestow on him length of days. Give 
him in his right hand the scepter of salvation; set 
him upon the throne of righteousness; defend him 
with the whole armor of the Holy Spirit; strengthen 
his arm, subdue before him all warlike barbarian 
peoples; plant in his heart Thy fear and compas- 
sion towards all his subjects.' 

" The Emperor then asked for the crown, and, 

* No one thought then that she would be a tool for German 
intrigue, or foresaw the awful influence of the priest Rasputin. 



3o6 ODD CORNERS 

standing with it for a moment in his hand, placed 
it upon his head. It was a mighty crown of dia- 
monds and pearls, divided into two parts, symboliz- 
ing the Eastern and Western Empires; the two 
parts were joined by a superb ruby, from which 
sprung a cross of pearls. ... In like manner the 
Emperor took in his right hand the scepter, and in 
his left the orb of Empire, and was reminded that 
they were symbols of the power of government. 
When this was done, the Emperor stood for a 
space, clad in all the insignia of his office, the un- 
disputed ruler of his vast dominion, crowned by his 
own hand, and responsible to God alone. It was a 
moment of incomparable dramatic effect, overpower- 
ing in its significance." 

From the treasury we entered the palace where 
visiting princes are entertained and the czars are 
crowned. It was much like other palaces with its 
Gobelin tapestries, silver tables and chandeliers, its 
palm garden, and its medieval chapel. This chapel 
was so dark that candles were lighted to show us 
the wonderful old ikons within the golden railing; 
the frames themselves may be only of silver gilt, 
or even gilded brass, but the halo about the head of 
Christ is always gold. 

The state bedroom had pillars that had been 
brought from Pompeii. Some of the rooms had 
malachite columns, hangings of gold brocade, and 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 307 

inlaid floors, while others were enriched with fres- 
coes and lovely velvets, and several had throne chairs 
on raised daises — three in one room for the czar, 
his wife and his mother. The throne room itself 
was never entered by women until Catherine the 
Great insisted on going in there with the men — per- 
haps she was the first suffragette ! 

The Great Catherine married the prince who 
afterward became Peter III, but she seems to have 
had little love for him, for her affairs were the 
scandal of the world, and when he was finally mur- 
dered it was more than suspected that she had a 
hand in it. However, she was a very able woman 
and her long reign was, on the whole, a good one. 

Although the Museum of the Patriarch is not 
open to the public it was nevertheless unlocked for 
our official party, as were many other places along 
our journey. This museum is in the famous bell 
tower of the Kremlin, near the Great Bell. In these 
small, queerly-shaped tower rooms were church 
vestments of gold and embroidery of great beauty 
and of eye-destroying fineness. Beside the golden 
basins and chalices and other utensils of the Church 
were holy books of parchment decorated with gold 
leaf and carefully painted saints, and ikons — the 
most beautiful holy pictures in the world — some of 
miracles, others showing dim faces of the Madonna 
and Child or of the Christ, surrounded by their 



3o8 ODD CORNERS 

halos of pure gold and often framed In exquisite 
mosaic or enamel. 

In the square outside is the Great Bell, the largest 
In the world, but cracked, so that it gives out a wail 
and moan when it is struck. According to an old 
legend a certain founder was commanded by the 
czar to make this bell. Twice he tried, and failed. 
The czar gave him a third trial, but he had become 
superstitious and believed that only a sacrifice would 
make it perfect. Women threw their jewels in, 
hoping that would have the desired effect, but in 
vain. Finally, to save her father's name, his daugh- 
ter threw herself into the molten metal, and by that 
sacrifice the bell became the greatest in history, and 
the heart of the czar, the Little Father of his peo- 
ple, was made glad. 

Here, too, there were Interesting, dark little 
chapels, but under ground, and a small one beneath 
the great arch of the wall, where candles were burn- 
ing brightly In front of a wonderful ikon. This 
chapel was crowded all day long, and the people 
who passed by In the street crossed themselves de- 
voutly after the fashion of the Greek Church, — from 
left to right. 

Another day we visited the Foundling Hospital, 
from which many of the soldiers of the present 
war have come. It is quite unlike anything of 
the kind that I have seen In America, but it seems 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 309 

to me that we might well get suggestions from it. 
This strange institution was founded by Catherine 
thje Great and is supported by the Government. It 
stands in the center of the city, surrounded by a 
beautiful park. The walled enclosure containing 
several enormous buildings is so vast that it takes 
an hour to make the circuit. Connected with the 
institution is a lying-in hospital, and a room fitted up 
with incubators for babies prematurely born. We 
were fortunate enough to have for guide a matron 
who spoke English so well that she was able to give 
us much information. 

No foundling under two years of age is ever re- 
fused admittance. Many of the children are dis- 
covered on the streets and in the trains, where they 
have been abandoned. During that year, thirteen 
thousand babies had been cared for, but not all of 
them were foundlings, for mothers might bring their 
infants here, if they wished, and give them up to 
the state. The establishment is intended for illegiti- 
mate children only, and the mothers of those born 
here are kept for six months. Many married women, 
out of the depths of their poverty, used to bring 
their new-born babies, pretending that they had no 
husbands in order that they and their children might 
be well fed and cared for; but they came in such 
numbers that lately it has been necessary to certify 
that the women were not married. Before this 



310 ODD CORNERS 

there were often nineteen thousand inmates during 
a year. 

When a mother arrives at the hospital with her 
baby the attendant in the waiting room at once 
writes down the name, age, etc., of the child. If it 
has not been baptized it is taken for this purpose to 
a little chapel where the services of the Greek 
Church are regularly held. The new arrival is then 
examined and weighed by the doctor and its clothing 
taken away, after which it is bathed and given 
clothes belonging to the hospital, and tagged. 

For a time the mother and her child sleep in the 
small ward next to the waiting room, which is a sort 
of quarantine where they stay until it is certain that 
they have no contagious disease, when they are as- 
signed to wards upstairs. Every ward has its uni- 
form, in which red and white predominate. 

In each of these huge rooms there are, I should 
say, two or three hundred women and children. On 
either side is a long row of baby cots, in front of 
each of which sits the mother in her costume all day 
long taking care of her baby — and sometimes of 
other babies, too. She follows the doctor's orders, 
helps clean the room, puts down her own mattress 
at night and takes It up again in the morning, sews, 
and does other light work. The women are never 
overworked, so they rest and grow strong. They 
take turns going out for their meals and have, be- 




An Idyl of Little Russia 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 311 

sides, a cup and saucer which they may take to a 
room nearby where they make tea for themselves 
whenever they wish. In the tea room is a small 
counter with food, sewing materials, and a few other 
things such as those who have any money might 
like to buy. But once they enter the building, the 
women are not allowed out of the grounds for the 
entire six months that they must spend there. 

Most of the mothers look prematurely old and 
worn. Some of them return with new babies, and 
they are always taken in, with no questions of any 
kind asked as to their past. The matron said that 
most of them were utterly silent in regard to their 
lives, few ever caring to confide their troubles. 
They were all quiet and well behaved, and anxious 
to show us their children, bobbing politely to the 
matron and the head nurses. Many of the lat- 
ter had been children in the hospital. Some of the 
mothers were peasants, but the majority came from 
the city. The greater number were of the lowest 
class, although there were well-educated women 
among them. They were trained to be hygienic, to 
take baths daily, to bathe their babies and care for 
them properly. They all looked so clean and were 
so quiet and orderly that the management was evi- 
dently very good. 

When the children are six months old they are 
separated from their mothers and sent into the 



312 ODD CORNERS 

country, the mothers leaving the hospital. The 
babies are usually put into the homes of peasants, 
whom the Government pays a few roubles a month 
for keeping them. The mother knows where her 
baby is, and if she is able to care for it herself at 
any time before it is seven years old she is allowed 
to take It. But after that, if she has never claimed 
her child she no longer has any right to it. We 
asked if these children turned out well and learned 
that several had become prominent in the nation. It 
is really a state nursery; the boys are kept for the 
army, and no doubt many of them have distin- 
guished themselves in this war. But owing partly 
to the cruel climate and partly to constitutional 
weaknesses, not more than a quarter of the children 
reach their majority. 

While in Moscow we visited the Romanoff house, 
which had recently been restored and was the most 
remarkable ancient building existing in Russia — a 
fine specimen of the old dwelling house of the 
boyars or nobles; It v^^as here that the first of the 
recently reigning dynasty was born. 

But of all the wonderful hours in Moscow, I be- 
lieve the service at St. Saviour's surpassed the rest. 
We were ushered into a gallery where we could 
look down on hundreds of people standing and 
crossing themselves or kneeling and touching their 
foreheads to the earth. Through doors at the back 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 313 

of the platform one could see a priest in robes of 
gold and crimson under the four-posted canopy of 
gilded wood, the holy of holies that no woman may 
enter. 

During the service other priests in silver vest- 
ments appeared bearing lighted candles and crosses 
and Bibles. They bowed and crossed themselves, 
then turned and bowed again, much as they do in 
the Roman Catholic Church. Then one intoned in 
a deep, rich voice which echoed and resounded in 
this great, lofty, modern but beautiful cathedral. 
The choir of men, robed in red and white, sat on 
either side of the altar, in boxes like those in a the- 
ater. When they sang they walked two by two down 
the steps and along a strip of red carpet to a square 
in the center of the church, where they continued to 
sing. Though unaccompanied, their voices sounded 
like a great organ. From their very souls came 
music no earthly instrument could produce, for it was 
vibrant with spiritual meaning- — a minor wail of sad- 
ness, a good-by to earthly things and then a joyful, 
conquering song of the heavens ! 

Two trains a week left Moscow for the long run 
across Siberia — the Russian express and the train 
of the Wagon-Lits Compagnie. Both were likely 
to be crowded and one had to engage passage some 
time ahead. The food was supposed to be equally 



314 ODD CORNERS 

good on both. We chose the Wagon-LIts for our 
crossing because the conductors spoke something be- 
sides Russian, although the other train had the ad- 
vantage of a room where one could take a bath. 
Even when the temperature outside was forty 
degrees below zero the cars were kept warm as sum- 
mer, though heated by wood fires. 

The trans-Siberian route to Harbin is the longest 
unbroken train journey in the world — in time, if not 
in distance, for the trip from Moscow takes eight 
or nine days. We were fortunate enough to get a 
private car — one which Prince Arthur of Connaught 
and his suite had occupied on their way to the 
Mikado's funeral. Strangely enough, we had the 
same porter as when we crossed Siberia two years 
before. There were two other first-class carriages 
like ours, very crowded, and a number of second- 
class ones that were simply seething with Japanese, 
Chinese, Eurasians and Europeans. 

The dining car, which was large and comfortable, 
seemed to be in use all day long. We got up late 
and went In for lunch at twelve and dinner at six, 
but others crowded in for tea In the afternoon and 
for supper later In the evening. One night at eleven 
o'clock we found it crowded — a Chinaman playing 
chess with a Russian, several Japanese playing 
dominoes together, and some English officers — a 
mixed company and quite an Interesting one. Our 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 315 

little table was always clean and perfectly set, and 
we were well served. Among other things they gave 
us red caviar, which comes from the sturgeon of the 
Volga. 

With our books and games and comforts all 
about, our house on wheels was very homelike. The 
cars were roomy, for the train was wide-gauged. 
Russia, like Spain, sought to protect herself In case 
of war by a different width of track, to prevent 
troops being sent In over the railway. 

Now there are two railway tracks most of the 
way across Siberia, both with this same wide gauge. 
But few civilians travel over them, for soldiers and 
ammunition have the right of way, with food and 
medical supplies going next. I am told that near 
the coast packages of the latter have been piled high, 
for the traffic was so tremendous that even In the 
big Siberian towns It was almost Impossible to get 
medical supplies. It Is believed, though, that Ger- 
man plots were responsible for much of the difficulty. 

In this connection I may add that Russia has suf- 
fered from a great scarcity of doctors, so many 
have been killed. There have been very few women 
nurses, too, but Russia is, I believe, the only coun- 
try where they have been allowed near the firing 
line. Curiously enough, there have been women 
dentists for the soldiers. Even in far-off Siberia 
there are American nurses at work. It is said that 



3i6 ODD CORNERS 

the first time the Germans used gases, out of four 
thousand Siberians affected half were killed at once, 
eight hundred died soon after, and at last accounts 
the others were all dying of tuberculosis. 

Southern Russia, from Moscow toward the Urals, 
was one long, monotonous stretch of white, with oc- 
casional villages of log cabins half burled In snow, 
clustered about a gray-walled church whose dome 
of blue or green was surmounted by a Greek cross. 
Across the white prairie caravans of sleds drawn by 
horses passed In procession, silhouetted black against 
the snow, and every now and then some single 
figure appeared pathetically In the dreary waste, 
watching the train which was their only link with 
civilization. As we looked out over the wide, empty 
snowscape we could understand the appalling terror 
and madness that may come with the dreariness and 
desolation. The peasants we were near enough to 
see were muffled In sheepskin coats, their baggy 
trousers tucked into boots of skin, and skin caps 
drawn down over their ears — such bearded and 
dull-looking Slavs! 

It was a relief to come finally to the Urals, though 
at the southern end of the range, where the rail- 
road crosses them, they are more like hills than 
mountains. In the stations along the way there 
were little booths where aquamarines and boxes of 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 317 

green malachite were offered for sale. I found It 
hard to select jewels for a lifetime all In a minute, 
and a lady standing nearby did not make the task 
any easier by warning me that many of the stones 
were sure to be false. I picked out a tourmaline 
and held up my fingers to show the dealer what I 
was willing to pay for It. He shook his head, but 
just then — toot ! toot ! went the engine, and I started 
for the train, so he relented and gave me the stone 
at my price. It turned out to be very good. 

Once past the Urals and we were In Siberia, but 
still traversing mile upon mile of flat, snow-covered 
country. The first steppe counted for about twelve 
hundred miles of endless prairie, much like parts of 
our own West. There was the shortest daylight we 
had ever seen, the sun no higher In the sky at noon 
than we had seen it in Norway at midnight. 

The air was so still that It was a delight to 
breathe It when we went out for our short exercise 
on the station platforms. The stations were neat 
and substantial, with their main buildings often of 
brick, and outhouses and fences among little planta- 
tions of trees. There was generally a crowd of 
Tartars and a sprinkling of Mongols among the 
Russians, all wrapped up in their skin coats and 
caps and boots. 

Occasionally there would be a lonely figure plod- 
ding along, or some little sleds with their tired. 



31 8 ODD CORNERS 

shaggy ponies staggering over the drifted plains. 
Now and then there was a village so hidden in the 
snow that it looked like an uninhabited mound ex- 
cept for the tiny columns of smoke rising from it. 
Pushkin's lines came to my mind — 

" Stormy clouds delirious straying, 

Showers of whirling snowflakes white, 
And the pallid moonbeams waning — 

Sad the heavens, sad the night! 
Further speeds the sledge, and further, 

Loud the sleighbell's melody, 
Grewsome, frightful 'tis becoming, 

'Mid these snow fields now to be! " 

The costumes of the people in Siberia are so 
varied that it is hopeless to try to describe them, 
and so many different races are represented — 
Tartars, Finns, Mongols and a host of others — that 
the faces are as diverse as the costumes. 

Most Americans take it for granted that Siberia 
has been settled entirely from Russia, first by con- 
victs and political exiles, and later on by peasant im- 
migrants. But this is only a modern development. 
The country seems to have been settled In the first 
place by tribes of Finns, who were later conquered 
by Turks from the south and driven northward. 
During the thirteenth century wandering bands of 
Mongolians from the East conquered both the Finns 
and the Turks and established the great Mongol 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 319 

Empire. When this weakened, as It did a century 
later, the Turks and Finns revolted and set up 
separate governments of their own. 

The Russians under Ivan the Terrible subdued 
western Siberia during the sixteenth century. The 
Cossacks overwhelmed Turk, Mongol and Finn 
alike, and In time brought the whole vast region 
under the rule of Russia. A century later the czars 
began to colonize Siberia with convicts and even 
banished there their prisoners of war from other 
countries — Germans, Poles and Swedes. Peasant 
immigrants have been much more numerous than 
the criminals, though, and this Is fortunate, for the 
convicts' Influence was very pernicious. At one time 
gangs of them used to Invade little colonies of peace- 
ful settlers and Inaugurate a reign of terror, cor- 
rupting the morals of every hamlet upon which they 
descended. When the Government began to realize 
what was happening, they confined the criminals to 
a district along the Lena River and to prisons in 
the Far East, leaving the peasants undisturbed in 
the western and central parts of the country. 

Many of the railway hands whom we saw were 
political prisoners, heavily bearded fellows, rather 
good-looking. It had been customary the last few 
years to grant political prisoners much liberty, so 
long as they remained in this growing and pros- 
perous country, and they had an opportunity to go 



320 ODD CORNERS 

into business and affairs as they pleased. Only dan- 
gerous criminals were being sent to farther Siberia 
and Saghalien, where the prisons were of a modern 
character. 

From the train could be seen the old road over 
which the exiles had to march in the days before the 
railway was built; when we were there they were 
conveyed in prison cars with barred windows. 

From the time we left Kurgan, in the Urals, till 
we crossed the Obi River we were traveling through 
the great " black earth belt " of the Baraba Steppe, 
a vast plain stretching more than a thousand miles 
from east to west. It lies between the forest region 
on the north and the desert steppes to the south, 
and is the richest land in western Siberia. It is to 
this region that the peasant immigration has been 
directed by the Russian government. Colonists were 
granted partial or complete exemption from taxes 
for a few years, a loan of money, and enough seed 
corn for several acres. Wheat enough to feed half 
a billion people could be raised there. 

Once before we had crossed this steppe, in the 
fall of the year, before the snow came. Then we 
could see the tilled ground as black as ink and rich 
as it was black. It was really impressive farming 
land, with cultivation extending to the very horizon. 
Many windmills waved their weird arms about, and 
green-roofed churches stood among the brown- 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 321 

thatched cottages, surrounded by huge stacks of 
garnered grain. Here and there a peasant traveled 
past in a rattletrap wagon with the characteristic 
arched yoke of a collar on the shaft. 

It looked very different under its blanket of snow, 
but apparently the winter has no terror for the 
intrepid settlers. We passed many immigrant trains, 
for more peasants were going out there than to 
America, sometimes half a million in a single year. 
But the plains are so vast that throughout large 
districts the population was scarcely ten to the mile. 

Beyond the Obi River we left the level steppes 
and rose into the mountains which form the north- 
western boundary of the great plateau of central 
Asia. This is a forest region covered with Scotch 
pine, spruce and Siberian pine interspersed with 
open stretches where peasant colonists were finding 
new homes. In many places we were reminded of 
our own country — indeed, Siberia is often called 
the " new America." 

In crossing the whole western half the traveler 
gets but little idea of Siberian civilization, for the 
railway merely cuts the outskirts of a few large 
towns. After a run of four thousand miles from 
Moscow one does at last, however, come to Kras- 
noyarsk, which is situated on the great Yenisei River 
and is the metropohs. From the railway station, 
which Is a mile or so from the center of the town, 



322 ODD CORNERS 

little could be seen but snow, and when we had 
passed before In the autumn all we saw was a wide 
cart track filled with ruts, over which the four- 
wheeled carts of the country made their way in 
a series of jerks and jounces. For the benefit of 
those who had to go about on foot, a few boards 
were laid down where the ruts were deepest. 
This bog of mud, it appeared, was the principal 
street of Krasnoyarsk. There was no time to ex- 
plore this road, but I have heard that it meanders 
on for several miles along the bank of the river, 
fenced in only by ragged lines of houses from the 
wide, monotonous expanses on either side. All the 
houses, even the governor's, are built of logs, though 
a few of them have coats of plaster on the outside. 
The " hotels " are simply huge barns. 

Yet Krasnoyarsk was a trade center and the dis- 
tributing point for the whole Yenisei valley. Plows 
and harvesters from America and Russia, flour 
from Tomsk, dairy utensils and manufactured goods 
from central Europe, were all brought here to find 
a market or to be transshipped to other points. Mr. 
Price, In his book on Siberia, quotes a Russian as 
saying that the country was like Canada with its 
resources of furs, timber and minerals, its bound- 
less steppes for cattle raising, and its thousands 
upon thousands of square miles of black earth for 
raising wheat. 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 323 

At Krasnoyarsk began the second half of our long 
journey, and now we really seemed to be penetrat- 
ing into Arctic regions. There were days and 
nights of endless snow — the train crawled along. 
As we drew near Irkutsk the weather grew colder 
and the drifts deeper, and even that town was a 
welcome break in the monotony. 

Irkutsk is sometimes called the Paris of Siberia, 
but one must not expect too much of it on that ac- 
count. There were, to be sure, a few brick and 
stone buildings — the museum, the theater, the cathe- 
dral, the governor's residence, and some schools — 
but all the rest were low structures built of logs. 
However, the large number of exiles of intelligence 
and culture who settled there made it an educa- 
tional center to which students came from all parts 
of the country. It is perhaps the largest and most 
important city in that part of the world, though the 
population is less than a hundred thousand. 

Near Irkutsk is Lake Baikal, which divides the 
eastern from the western section. This is not only 
the largest body of fresh water in the Old World, 
being some four hundred miles long, but it is also the 
deepest, measuring in one place over three thousand 
feet. The railway follows a rushing river from 
Irkutsk, then turns and is carried through many tun- 
nels out over the water's edge, where the mountains 
come down to the shore. When we were there in 



324 ODD CORNERS 

the fall it was an inland sea with snow-streaked 
mountains in the distance, and the browns, yellows 
and reds of autumn foliage reflected in the calm 
water. 

After leaving Baikal the train passed at last out 
of the blanket of snow which had so covered 
our world, and came into a country that was 
only patched and powdered here and there with 
white. 

After that the stations came more frequently, 
but the stops were indefinitely long. We would get 
off and rush up and down the platform, ready to 
jump on when the bell rang, for they were likely 
to start off quickly enough, only to crawl along aft- 
erward. Much of the country was flat and covered 
with a stunted growth of willow and white birch. 
There were a few wretched villages where the Rus- 
sians had made brick military posts along the rail- 
way. The people whom we saw were stolid and 
stupid-looking and dirty. 

When we reached the Manchurian border L. sat 
up late into the night, expecting to have a bad time 
over the examination of our luggage, but instead was 
received by most polite oflicials who entertained him 
at a champagne supper in the station restaurant! 

Manchuria is a well-cultivated country, with level 
stretches of rich black earth. The only striking 
objects in the landscape were the old fire-signal 



CROSSING TWO CONTINENTS 325 

towers. Harbin was a big, spread-out place, with 
busy factories and smoking chimneys, and had a tem- 
perature of forty below zero, but it was still and 
clear and a lovely morning, and one could not real- 
ize that it was so cold. After the long stretches of 
Siberia, Manchuria seemed positively homelike. 

From Harbin to Changchun our way led through 
the battleground of the Far East, where the Japa- 
nese were victorious over the Russians in 1 905 . South- 
ward from Mukden, over this immense fertile plain, 
their armies tramped that autumn through the un- 
ending fields of kaoliang that stretch for miles on 
either side of the railroad — " a tawny sea, brown- 
tasseled with the yellow grain." Beyond the fields 
on one side is the ocean, on the other the low 
Western Hills behind which lie the barren wastes 
of the mysterious Gobi Desert. 

General Kuropatkin was in command of the Rus- 
sian troops, while Marshal Oyama led the vic- 
torious Japanese in the battle at Mukden. In this 
region, too, were the battles of the Yalu Valley, and 
Liaoyang, as well as Haichen and Shao-ho. 

At Changchun we left our comfortable car for 
the even more comfortable Pullmans of the Japa- 
nese line. It was here at Changchun that we got 
our first news from the outside world since leaving 
Moscow, nine days before. The tao-tai, or viceroy, 
met us and whisked us off as quickly as he could, for 



326 ODD CORNERS 

there is much rivalry with the Japanese, who are 
colonizing here and have built many modern build- 
ings. The viceroy was a cheerful little fellow, 
one of the brightest and nicest of the Chinese whom 
we met. We rattled off through the wide, dusty 
streets to his official residence, a new building, or 
rather series of buildings, with gardens in between 
full of ragged China asters and cosmos. There we 
walked in the sunshine till we went in to breakfast, 
which was like a dinner, with many courses of such 
delicacies as shark's lips, and eel, and queer shellfish, 
and — champagne. This last is always brought out 
for foreigners on special occasions, even in the early 
morning ! 

The American consulate at Mukden was a fas- 
cinating temple, new but entirely Chinese in design, 
with courts and stone lions and yamens with richly 
decorated friezes under the tiled roofs and on the 
ceilings, the whole made just European enough for 
comfort without spoiling the effect. 

Mukden is on the line that goes down to Port 
Arthur, and another to Seoul, but we took still a 
third and continued on our way. Past Chinese 
villages with their mud walls we traveled, until we 
came at last in sight of the sacred city of Peking. 



CHAPTER XVII 



WITH OUR SECRETARY OF WAR IN CHINA 




T SO happens that we have been in China 
several times, but by far the most inter- 
esting of our visits to the Celestial Em- 
pire was when we were there in the party 
of our Secretary of War, Hon. J. M. Dickin- 
son. The Chinese government laid itself out on 
that occasion to do everything possible for the Sec- 
retary, in its efforts to show a desire for the good- 
will and good offices of the American people. We 
alone among the great nations of the world were 
not preparing to devour them piecemeal at the first 
opportunity. Our friendship had been fairly proved 
by the return of our share in the Boxer indemnity, 
and China was grateful. One of the forms which 
this good-will took was the giving of dinners, lunch- 
eons and receptions in our honor. 

Perhaps the most interesting personage whom we 
met was the brother of the Regent, Prince Tsai 
Tao. Officially, he was aide-de-camp to the Em- 

327 



328 ODD CORNERS 

peror, commander of the Imperial bodyguard and 
chief of the general staff. Personally, he was a man 
of about twenty-five years, keenly alive, of medium 
stature, with a frank, intelligent face, charming 
manners and forceful character. In every way he 
showed himself a prince and to the manner born. 

Prince Tao presided at the luncheon which the 
Board of War gave In honor of the Secretary and 
the men of his party. The account of It In my hus- 
band's journal runs something as follows: On the 
Prince's right sat Secretary Dickinson, on his left 
General Edwards, while opposite him was the Chi- 
nese Minister of War, General Yin Chang, who 
wore no queue [although this was before queues had 
been ordered off] and looked much like a German 
officer. Other high Chinese officers alternated with 
the Americans. It was a long table with about fifty 
covers. The Prince seemed pleased to be in uni- 
form again — for several days he had been repre- 
senting the Prince Regent in various civil functions, 
which he had found rather Irksome, perhaps. Evi- 
dently the military profession was his choice and 
pleasure. 

The luncheon was a very pleasant one — really an 
officers' mess on the special occasion of a visit from 
other officers. Prince Tao seemed anxious to get 
American views and suggestions, and invited criti- 
cism of the Chinese army. Toward the close of 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 329 

the meal he rose, and as is the custom In the pres- 
ence of royalty, all the other Chinese rose, too. The 
Americans, it goes without saying, did likewise. 
Then, later on, when the Secretary got to his feet, 
the Prince followed suit. So It happened that nearly 
all the toasts and speeches were made and listened 
to with everybody standing. In a few words, evi- 
dently extemporaneous, and spoken with feeling. 
Prince Tao toasted the United States Army and its 
Secretary of War. After the Secretary's response, 
His Imperial Highness made another address ex- 
pressing his pleasure and recalling his own visit to 
the United States, and hoping that he could rely 
on the aid of that country in making the new Chi- 
nese army. 

After luncheon ideas were freely exchanged over 
the coffee and cigars, friendships were acknowl- 
edged and pledged, and good fellowship prevailed. 
The Secretary was told that this was the first time 
in the history of China that any officers of a for- 
eign army had been thus honored. No such cour- 
tesies had been extended to any foreign general, 
whatever his rank, not even to Lord Kitchener on 
his recent official visit. 

One of the most delightful evenings which we 
spent in Peking, and one full of real significance, 
was when the Society of the American Returned 
Students gave a dinner for our party. At a few 



330 ODD CORNERS 

days' notice they had got together a hundred of those 
who in years past had gone to America to study. 
Some had been among those first sent out, forty 
years ago, and so on down to the cadet who had 
graduated at West Point the year before. I was 
surprised to find that they seemed to look back on 
their days in America with real affection and enthu- 
siasm, for I had thought that we were not very con- 
siderate and hospitable to the foreign students in our 
midst. Even the women who had studied in America, 
and who sat in a row with our women on one side 
of the table, seemed most loyal to their student 
days. The after-dinner speeches were as amusing 
and as good as any I had ever heard. 

Some imperial ladies came one afternoon to 
a reception at the American Legation— Manchu 
princesses with lively, gay little faces smiling 
through coats of white paint and rouge. They 
were the Princess Pulun and the tiny Duchess Tzai 
Fu, made up in the most formal manner, with the 
carmine spot on the lip to make the mouth seem 
small and pouting. They toddled in on their high- 
soled shoes, balancing on their heads the extraor- 
dinary coiffure of Manchu ladies — great towering 
butterfly-shaped pieces with jeweled ornaments and 
bobbing sprays of imitation flowers. Their dress 
was lovely with its daring combinations of color. 
To this same reception came also the fascinating 




a 

z 

Ph 

as 

< 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 331 

small daughters of Liu, the Chinese Minister to 
England, clad in little jackets and trouserloons, 
and wearing their hair in queues down their backs. 
Likewise in Chinese costume but a "new" woman 
for all that, was Miss Yen, sister of the brilliant 
Doctor Yen, and clever as she could be. 

One evening the women of our party were enter- 
tained by Lady Na, the wife of the Prime Minister, 
while the men dined with one of the cabinet min- 
isters, Mr. Hu. I will give first the account of the 
men's dinner, taken from my husband's journal: 

" The drive to Minister Hu's house was not as 
long as some of the excursions had been, and it took 
only a short scamper In the stuffy, rattling little car- 
riages with the shouting mafoos scattering the 
crowds In the streets to reach the brightly lighted 
doors of his residence. There was a short passage 
into a courtyard and then an entrance into another 
court, where a little open gallery led to the recep- 
tion rooms. These were partly European and quite 
plain, with ugly modern chairs and tables and rather 
poor pictures on the walls, but with cases of Chi- 
nese curios about — jades and lacquers and coins. 

" After a time we passed into the dining-room 
with its Europeanlzed arrangements, its tablecloths 
and sideboards. But the dinner was entirely Chi- 
nese, the first real Chinese meal some of the party 
had ever tasted and so eaten under difficulties — by 



332 ODD CORNERS 

them — with chopsticks. As It was all quite Informal, 
it was very jolly and enjoyable. Mr. Hu had been 
at many of the official entertainments for the Sec- 
retary, so we all felt quite at home with him. He 
was a round-faced, jolly little Chinese gentleman, 
making jokes In quite good English. 

" The meal, which was delicious, consisted of 
fourteen courses, on the menu, but others were 
added at the last minute to fill In the spaces, and all 
was washed down by gunpowdery samshu and 
kaoliang that looks so Innocent but which Is really 
chain lightning. The little cups were quietly re- 
filled with the warm rice wine and the white bam- 
boo liquor and cordial toasts were passed around 
the table between the Chinese gentlemen and those 
of our party. 

" First we tasted the bits of smoked fish and 
bamboo sprouts and cold chicken that were already 
on the table in little dishes before each one of us. 
It is the custom in China to serve soup at the end of 
the dinner, but out of regard for foreign prejudice 
it came at the beginning on this occasion — chicken 
soup with mushrooms and quite as Chinese as blrd's- 
nest soup, though it doesn't sound so. 

" Then came roast fish in little bits In bowls, and 
delicious shark fins with cabbage. Turtle and 
pigeon and meat dumplings followed each other, 
then delicate ducks' tongues and bits of tasty ham in 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 333 

a sort of soup. After this, roast duck cut In small 
pieces — Peking Is specially famed for Its duck, which 
is considered the best In the country; the crisp 
browned skin with its layer of rich fat Is Indescrib- 
ably succulent. Shantung cabbage hearts and chest- 
nut pudding, with the extra courses, one of which 
was rice, brought the dinner to fruits, which are 
much like ours, and to sweets, among them sugared 
lotus seeds. 

" After dinner the company retired across a 
courtyard, the side galleries of which were prettily 
hung with lanterns, to a pavilion where there were 
European things and a piano. Madame Hu, who 
had been partly educated in Virginia, came back 
from Lady Na's dove party and joined the men in 
the pavilion while they sang and smoked, showing 
indeed the new spirit in China. 

" Before we left. His Excellency took us into 
another pavilion with an open fireplace and deep 
leather furniture that awakened waves of homesick- 
ness. Here he showed us his photographs of celeb- 
rities and friends. Then we passed to the outer 
court again and the short passages, and to our car- 
riages, and so went rattling and jolting back to our 
quarters." 

The Invitations which the women of our party re- 
ceived to dine with Lady Na were written In black 
Chinese characters on a long piece of red paper. A 



334 ODD CORNERS 

translation was attached which stated that we were 
expected to arrive at five o'clock, and that dinner 
would be at seven. We were warned that it was 
not a Chinese custom to reply, but that we must 
appear with the invitations in our hands. As for- 
eign women are seldom admitted to even the hum- 
bler homes of the Manchus, and as Lady Na was 
not only a Manchu but a personage of high rank, 
it was a rare privilege that was offered us by these 
curious invitations. 

Starting off in carriages, we passed Chinese dig- 
nitaries serenely squatting in covered chairs carried 
by coolies, while outriders were going helter-skelter 
before and behind them on shaggy ponies. We rat- 
tled past carts drawn by mules, and jinrikishas bear- 
ing painted Manchu ladies, and Chinese women tod- 
dling along on their tiny broken feet. Bumpity- 
bump over the rough street we drove, while our 
driver snapped his whip and gave long calls which 
sounded like " Liar! liar! " We went under pailos 
and through thick-walled arches, past gray walls and 
pink walls and the glorious yellow-tiled roofs of the 
Forbidden City. 

Finally we drew up before Lady Na's house, 
which looked like any other on the outside — a long 
gray wall with a hooded entrance gate. Inside, 
also, we found the usual arrangement — a walled 
compound enclosing many courtyards and one-storied 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 335 

buildings, the latter often connected by bridges or 
covered passageways. Entering on foot we passed 
through one of the courtyards and into a second, 
where stood the stone screen placed in every house 
to keep out the devil, who, according to Chinese 
tradition, " can only travel in a straight line." 

The devil seems to give them great concern. On 
the corners of the roofs are little curligigs which 
are supposed to be useful in tossing him up 
into the air when he slides down the tiles. Along 
with the little tile animals, the dragon and the 
phoenix, which represent happiness and prosperity, 
comes the mysterious hen, ridden by a man. She 
is supposed to give the devil a peck when he comes 
too near. The Chinese have built lofty pagodas 
to propitiate the spirits of the air, but their houses 
are all low, lest they interfere with these gods. For 
a long time there was a law forbidding any struc- 
ture above a certain height, in order to prevent mis- 
sionaries from erecting churches with towers. 

Presently we found ourselves at the entrance to 
a charming paved court. There were potted green 
plants twisted into queer shapes, and small fruit 
trees with bunches of crab-apples and beautiful 
ripening pomegranates hanging from their branches. 
Lotus leaves floated on an artificial pond and bright 
flowers peeped at us between fantastic-shaped rocks. 
At this entrance Lady Na and her daughters stood 



23^ ODD CORNERS 

waiting to greet us. They were noble Manchu 
ladies, and they looked like curious flowers in their 
long, light blue, straight gowns and short jackets, 
their faces whitened and rouged beyond belief, their 
black hair plastered down with oil and sewed to- 
gether at the back, and surmounted by strange black 
satin topknots with flying buttresses. There were 
flowers in this headdress, too, and pearl ornaments 
striking out at different angles. We could easily be- 
lieve what we were told, that such a toilet takes 
several hours in the making. 

The Chinese ladies who soon gathered about us 
were costumed quite differently from the Manchu 
women. Madame Tsi, for instance, was in a short 
embroidered pink jacket with pink trousers, and her 
hair was oiled and coiled at the back of her neck 
with many jewels; she wore bracelets on her arms 
and precious stones about her neck. As a rule the 
Chinese and Manchu women do not associate much. 
These Chinese ladies all had natural feet, were edu- 
cated in America and spoke English, while the 
Manchu ladies had little or no education. When 
they met us they all shook hands, but in greeting 
each other they slid their hands upon their knees 
and bowed low several times. We were escorted 
into a room where amahs, or maids, took our wraps, 
balancing themselves on their high shoes and trem- 
bling so in their excitement at seeing people from 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 337 

a far-off land that their mutton-fat jade earrings 
shook in their ears. 

We were taken to the big seat of honor, made of 
teakwood and marble, in the center of which was 
a small table. Here we had tea for the first time — 
I say the first time, because we had been offered it 
at least five times in the different pavilions as we 
walked through the compound. Lady Na's daugh- 
ters, who looked about her own age, were presented 
to us, and a small baby was also brought forward. 
Whether they were all her own children or not we 
were unable to find out, but we saw no other wives, 
though we were told that Chinamen or Manchus 
might have as many as they could afford to keep. 
If a man had several, they all lived in different 
parts of the same compound, each one keeping 
house by herself. An unmarried woman takes pre- 
cedence over the married ones, for they say, " Per- 
haps some day she may be empress ! " 

The rooms through which we passed were all 
more or less alike : tables and chairs of teakwood, 
a European oil painting here, a piece of Japanese 
embroidery there; instead of "God Bless Our 
Home " there were poems hung upon the walls. On 
the stone floors, instead of the Golden Tibet Mon- 
key Rug, which, as they say, " keeps the whole 
house warm," were only here and there a few garish 
European carpets. The house was cold, even in 



338 . ODD CORNERS 

September, but In winter It was partially warmed by 
fires built In a sort of oven under the bed. 

At last dinner was announced. The table was 
set for sixteen and was quite European, with flowers 
and knives and forks. Course after course — wine 
after wine. Our hostess proposed one toast after 
another, saying, *' I drink the glass dry with you ! '' 

This seems an appropriate moment to insert a 
couple of verses of what is said to be perhaps the 
oldest drinking song in the w^orld — at any rate a 
very ancient Chinese lyric, written more than a 
thousand years before Christ: 

" The dew is heavy on the grass, 
At last the sun is set. 
Fill up, fill up the cups of jade, 
The night's before us yet! 

" All night the dew will heavy lie 
Upon the grass and clover. 
Too soon, too soon, the dew will dry, 
Too soon the night be over ! " * 

It was rather a struggle to keep up the conversa- 
tion. One end of the table was made gay by trying 
to teach a Manchu girl English, while some of us 
passed around our menu cards for the ladies to 
write their names on. Some of the Chinese ladles 
had been given English names, such as Ida or May, 
while others still kept their Chinese ones — " Fairy 

*From "Lyrics from the Chinese," by Helen Waddell. 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 339 

of the Moon " and " Beloved of the Forest." Lady 
Na would or could not write her name. Madame 
Tsi assured us that she had trouble with her eyes. 
After dinner, to our amazement, some Chinese 
music was played on the pianola, while more tea and 
cigarettes were passed. It was all very interesting 
and delightful, but when we drove back to the hotel 
at half-past nine we were so tired and it seemed so 
late that we wondered why the sun did not rise ! 

This was perhaps the most novel experience the 
ladies of the party had while in Peking, and it well 
illustrates the transition period through which the 
country is passing, when some Chinese women still 
wear the '' cup of tears," as they call their tiny em- 
broidered satin shoes, while others, who have studied 
in America or at mission schools, are leaders in the 
ranks of progress. One of them was a leader in the 
republican revolution and was beheaded for her part 
in it, while others have led Amazon regiments. 

Now that the Empire has fallen and China has 
become a republic, the palaces and gardens belong- 
ing to the great Manchus may perhaps be seen by 
the traveler. But at the time of our visit they were 
still hidden from the world, as they had been for 
centuries. 

One is not apt to associate a chance for unusual 
experiences with a botanical garden. But there was 
nothing commonplace about our trip through the one 



340 ODD CORNERS 

in Peking, which had been a favorite haunt of the 
old Empress. To begin with, various high officials 
and personages representing the Chinese government 
met us at the entrance with chairs for the long ex- 
cursion that lay before us. These bore us through 
endless zigzag paths that, curiously enough, re- 
minded us of America with their beds of marigolds 
and red cockscombs on either side. Then we em- 
barked on a flotilla of marvelous houseboats. These 
were really barges with pagoda-like houses on them 
painted in bright colors and with curling roofs. 
Inside they were gay with mirrors and many-hued 
trappings. All we needed was the Empress with 
eunuchs and waving fans to fill out the picture of 
Manchu splendor. 

Skillful boatmen poled us along through narrow 
passages in a tangle of high grasses and lotus. At 
times we seemed lost in the mazes of the beautiful 
marsh as gay boatload after boatload moved through 
in procession. Finally, we landed near a high, 
steeply arched bridge, and passing some tea houses 
came to a pavilion in a more secluded part of the 
grounds. This was the favorite resting place of 
the great Empress Dowager. It was approached by 
a long circling gallery and was divided into several 
rooms, all filled with curios which had belonged to 
Her Majesty. There were panels of jade and fine 
lacquers kept beneath glass on carved tables, but 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 341 

more interesting to us were the kakemonos painted 
by the Empress. She was a remarkable artist Her 
work is often to be recognized, not only by the im- 
perial seal, but by the lack of adherence to strict 
canons of Chinese art, which no one dared tell her 
she was violating. 

After being given a cup of fragrant tea we were 
led on through devious paths and over steep bridges 
to another pagoda, her second resting place. This 
was much like the first, except that a small room 
with a round door contained a bed built into the 
wall, somewhat like a bunk in a steamer, on which 
the Empress used to rest. 

The Summer Palace of the Imperial family is 
about eight miles from the ancient walls of Peking. 
We rumbled out through villages and fields and past 
deserted yamens until, drawing near this wonder- 
land, we saw the endless walls and up-curved roofs 
of the country houses of the princes and high offi- 
cials. They were grouped about a wide space full 
of trees, across which we drove to a small gate in 
the wall of a long row of outbuildings. Here we 
left our carriages and passed in on foot. Before us 
was a court, shaded by a grove of cedars and sur- 
rounded by walls and gray-tiled roofs. At one side 
stood a pavilion where we were served with tea In 
fragile cups before meeting the officials who prom- 
ised to take us through the palace and grounds. 



342 ODD CORNERS 

Opening widely from the court and approached by 
a series of steps was a handsome building in which 
stood the reception throne of the late Empress Dow- 
ager. It was at the foot of this throne that the 
young Emperor was compelled to stand, on occa- 
sions of ceremony, in token of his subjection. He 
was not the son of the Dowager Empress, who had 
no children of her own, but of another wife, and 
is said to have been smothered by the orders of the 
Dowager. He was the uncle of the last reigning 
Boy Emperor — whom the Manchus have just now 
been trying to restore to the throne — and very clever 
and progressive, but not strong enough to carry out 
his plans against the old Empress. Two thousand 
years ago someone wrote verses which seem to sug- 
gest his plight: 

*' I may walk In the garden and gather 
Lilies of mother-of-pearl. 
I had a plan would have saved the state, 
But mine are the thoughts of a girl. 

" The Elder Statesmen sit on the mats, 
And wrangle through half the day; 
A hundred plans they have drafted and dropped. 
And mine was the only way." * 

From this building we followed a winding path 
among fine bronzes of phoenix and deer and storks 
till we came out upon a wide terrace overlooking a 
calm and placid lake. Here was reflected the Sum- 

*'* Lyrics from the Chinese," by Helen WaddelL 



'.^ ^ 1^ {* 




<5 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 343 

mer Palace in all its enchantment — a dream-like 
panorama of arching marble bridges and balus- 
trades, islands crowned by kiosks, and terraces with 
pavilions built out into the water. Behind it rose 
the '* mountain of eternity," of ten thousand ages. 

From the terrace we entered a low, gray-tiled 
yamen — once the residence of the late Emperor — 
with paved court after court, all surrounded by gayly 
colored galleries, with cornice decorations in gilt and 
many colors, and pictures and mottoes frequently 
repeated. As in all these royal palaces, the private 
apartments were crowded with fine porcelains in 
open cabinets, so that they could be seen from all 
sides, jade panels, bronzes and quaintly carved crys- 
tals. Everywhere there were clocks — clocks Innu- 
merable. Orientals have a strange mania for 
timepieces of every shape and size, grotesque and 
ugly for the most part, but all proudly displayed In 
the midst of lovely Chinese curios. 

Out we went once more, and up marble steps that 
gave us a wider view of the Aladdin-like pagodas. 
There are two hundred In all — an enchanted city 
with golden-tiled roofs curving into each other up 
the mountainside. The mountain Itself they say 
was built of the earth taken out to make the lake. 
The groups of buildings rise one above the other, 
the great pagoda crowning all. This stands on a 
high, pink, terraced wall with groups of kiosks on 



344 ODD CORNERS 

either side. These have blue-tiled roofs and decora- 
tions and are " just to finish the picture," as one 
of the officials explained. 

Guards met us at the gate of the Winter Palace 
and passed us through into a paved court. The 
wall in front of us as we entered had once been 
red but was now faded to a beautiful old pink, with 
plaques set into it carved with flowers and dragons' 
heads. Turning to the left we found ourselves in 
a walk shaded by fine old willow trees growing on 
the border of a lake. 

But instead of having a single artificial lake, as 
the Summer Palace had, the Winter Palace had 
three — Pel Hal, Chung Hal, and Nan Hal. One 
of the ancient emperors called them the Three Seas. 
After the dust of our drive, the water was a cool 
and inviting sight. Boats, some covered, some 
open barges, awaited us at the stone steps of a land- 
ing, and we were punted over the shallow water, 
through masses of lotus plants and beneath a 
superbly carved bridge built of marble which was 
called by the reigning Emperor " Silver Line," a 
name that well describes it. 

Landing, we went through a gateway whose red 
and green paint had been softened by time to a 
rich and beautiful effect, and came into a lovely court 
shaded by fine old fir trees. From this court a flight 
of long, steep steps led to a temple. Within was 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 345 

one of the many-armed and many-headed gods. 
The view from this spot was wonderful. One 
looked out over the tops of the firs, with glimpses 
of curved yellow roofs, large and small — some 
many-gabled, some straight with great dragons' 
heads at each end — and the blue lakes, with the 
marble bridges, which looked more than ever like 
silver lines against the lapis lazuli of the water. 
The yellow-tiled wall with the drum towers stood 
out massively against the sky, while beyond lay the 
gray roofs of the city. 

The interior of this palace was disappointing, for 
much of it was modern — the paint fresh in places. 
Especially was this the case with the two reception 
halls of the late Empress Dowager. Each hall had 
a throne with peacock fans on either side, with 
huge cloisonne urns for incense, and around the 
walls were pictures by the Empress's own hand, and 
large cabinets of teakwood with doors of Bohemian 
glass. Again there were hundreds of clocks, all 
garish, like everything else in the two halls, and 
quite of a piece with the new European chandeliers 
of red. white and blue glass. 

There was court after court surrounded by the 
apartments of the Empress and her ladies-in-wait- 
ing. We were told that as Her Majesty was afraid 
of being murdered, she would not sleep two nights 
in the same room. Except for the two chosen 



346 ODD CORNERS 

ladies who had to sit up and watch beside her bed, 
none of her attendants knew which suite she would 
use. I believe these apartments had not been 
opened since her death. 

II 

The temples of Peking lacked nothing in atmos- 
phere or antiquity. There were three that im- 
pressed me most, and for different reasons. The 
first was the ancient Temple of Confucius, the sec- 
ond belonged to the Lamas and the last was the 
Temple of Heaven. 

Our little horses had a scramble to pull the car- 
riages up the steep arched bridges, but they finally 
succeeded in getting us across them all and under 
several large gates to an old rose-colored wall 
peeling with age and overhung by trees from a 
grove inside. We drove along for some distance, 
turning at last into a gateway, and entered a dilapi- 
dated courtyard, to find ourselves within the restful 
shades of the ancient Temple of Confucius. On 
either side stood open kiosks with curving roofs of 
yellow tiles, beneath which, on the backs of huge 
marble tortoises, were tablets inscribed with words 
of wisdom and history. In long rows stood mono- 
lithic stones, weather-beaten and stained with age, 
on which from time immemorial had been writ- 
ten the names of the high scholars of the empire. 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 347 

A few years ago, when the old examination system 
of the literati was modified into the more modern 
methods now in use, this custom was discontinued. 

Old, crumbling, pink-walled buildings enclosed the 
peaceful grove. Here and there we could see where 
animal sacrifices had once been offered. Rounding 
the porch of a pavilion in whose alcoves stood drums 
of the Chow period, some three thousand years ago, 
we found ourselves overlooking a beautiful court 
full of gnarled, fantastic cedars, with yamens and 
small temples right and left. Opposite stood another 
large pavilion on its marble-balustraded terrace, 
which was paved with handsome stones carved in 
deep relief between the flights of steps. In this 
hall had once stood the tablet which represented the 
soul of the great Confucius, but it had been re- 
moved because the last Emperor — Son of Heaven — 
had raised Confucius to the rank of saint. The 
seven partitions into which the front of this pa- 
vilion was divided were not honorable enough, for 
nine partitions are the tribute to a saint. So this 
ancient building was soon to be torn down, or, at 
best, to be remodeled, and the niches where the tab- 
lets of Confucius and his disciples had been were 
empty. 

We paused reverently in these sacred, gloomy 
shades, then went back to the courtyard, where the 
sunshine filtered down among the trees, through the 



348 ODD CORNERS 

gates, and finally out of the precincts of the Con- 
fucian temple. Wishing to see what had become of 
the sacred tablets, we entered the Hall of Classics. 
Before us was a wonderful gateway of three arches, 
its lovely weathered rose color covered with gor- 
geous tiles of yellow and green in fanciful designs — 
a monument perfect in richness and proportion. On 
it was written : 

Cross the bridge and receive instruction, 
Study the sea and receive inspiration. 

Beyond the gateway a paved path led us to a 
square pavilion set on a marble-balustraded terrace. 
This terrace, which was square, was raised above a 
circular one, also balustraded. Between the two 
terraces was a lotus lake, crossed by bridges of shin- 
ing marble. We went over these and entered the 
gloomy interior of a great hall, which was the 
temporary shrine of the tablets. It was disappoint- 
ing to find the famous tablet of Confucius merely 
an insignificant piece of black wood with dull gilt 
characters. 

The next temple we visited was given many years 
ago by an imperial personage who donated his ex- 
tensive palace to the Tibetan monks for a Lama 
temple. There were two thousand of these monks, 
and they were a ragged lot who had degraded Bud- 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 349 

dhism into a sort of sorcery and devil-worship. 
Beneath a quaint-roofed gate one entered the lofty, 
somber pavilion where sat a great, gilded, laughing 
Buddha, a grotesque figure with a huge paunch, that 
aroused anything but respect in the heart of the 
beholder. In the vast hall of another temple, where 
ceremonies were held, there was a large carved 
panel, covered with miniature figures in bronze and 
ivory of holy men and devils, representing, they 
said, the holy city of Lhassa. 

In one temple was a huge statue towering up into 
the many roofs of the building, an enormous god 
seventy feet high, said to be made of one piece of 
wood brought from Tibet, though it seemed in- 
credible. As you looked up at the appalling figure 
the white eyes could be seen in the gloom, gazing 
blankly at nothingness. The temple with the War 
God was the only one we saw that was clean and 
well kept up, and before this statue, which was bril- 
liantly colored, knelt the only worshiper in the 
whole Lama temple. A small room contained the 
shrine where the Emperor came once a year to wor- 
ship a Buddha of priceless mutton-fat jade. In 
the courtyards were the revolving prayer wheels, 
which one turned with the hand, at the same time 
repeating " O the Jewel of the Lotus," which was 
inscribed on the wheel. This simplifies worship 
greatly! 



350 ODD CORNERS 

Before leaving we were taken by a Lama, who 
was dressed in yellow and purple robes, through 
little gates in low walls and across small courts into 
his own house, where we had tea and Tibetan cakes. 
Our only disappointment was that we missed see- 
ing the young living Buddha. He had lately been 
staying there, but had just gone back to Tibet. 

From the beginning of time it has been the cus- 
tom for the Emperor to go three times a year to 
the famous Temple of Heaven to pray. He prayed 
for rain, and for good crops, and for a long con- 
tinuance of his dominion. The Temple of Heaven 
is circular in shape, and the wall around it is three 
and a half miles long. The tiles on the cone- 
shaped roof are dark blue like the distant moun- 
tains, and with the green of the trees it makes a 
beautiful combination of color. 

The ritual climax of the year is the Feast of 
Lanterns, which is the great moment of thanksgiv- 
ing and occurs the fifteenth day of the first moon 
of the year. Then the Emperor, on behalf of his 
people, used to go up the uncovered steps to wor- 
ship the Imperial God of Heaven. Because he was 
worshiping the High God who dwells above the 
cerulean, he was clad all in blue. His prayer shows 
some of the sonorous solemnity of the old Hebrew 
prophets: 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 351 

O Imperial Heaven, looking up I consider that 
Thy Heart Is benevolence and love. With trem- 
bling and anxiety I would not rashly ascend thy 
footstool, but would first consider my errors. I 
would Inquire If I have swept away one poor man's 
field to add to a monarch's park? Have the op- 
pressed had no appeal? For the gluttony of bribes 
has the blood of the Innocent been spilt? Have the 
gleaners been pushed Into the ditches by the pow- 
erful to starve? Have our enemies been left to 
trample on my flock as mire and ashes? Oh, lay the 
plumb line to my sins and teach me duty. Grant me 
renovation for the sake of my myriad innocents. 

The Chinese seem to delight in what is called the 
" sense of enclosure," for they use walls on all oc- 
casions to shut themselves In. Their gardens are 
always walled, their enclosed courtyards succeed 
each other, and their entrance gates are protected 
behind and often before by screen walls which do 
not necessarily hide, but, at least, suggest privacy. 
And then there are the many " great " walls which 
one sees in traveling through the country. 

It may be that these walls were built for their 
moral effect as much as for actual protection against 
northern invaders, for a great horde would certainly 
have been able to swarm over them at some point 
if they had tried. This Idea was rather confirmed 
by the Chinese aides to the Secretary of War, who 
told us how even today the brigands " outside " 



352 ODD CORNERS 

will only come down to it, though it is easily pass- 
able and, indeed, only a moral boundary. They 
also said that all the soldiers were enlisted from 
" inside the wall " because the loyalty of the men 
to the north of it could not be trusted. 

The really old Great Wall, the frontier barrier 
of China, was built three thousand years ago and 
stretches fifteen hundred miles across the country till 
it reaches the sea at Shan-hai-kuan, where the rail- 
way makes a breach in its crumbling length. The 
Great Wall of the Nankow Pass is of a later period, 
that of the Ming dynasty, in the Middle Ages. 
But it is a grand rampart, though it looks small 
because it streaks off across vast mountains into the 
horizon. 

It was to see this wall and the famous Ming 
Tombs that we set off one September morning from 
Peking on a special train. It was a very nice train 
with well-arranged saloon carriages, and the line, 
which was new, had been wholly and quite wonder- 
fully built by the Chinese themselves. After an 
hour's run we reached Nankow and began to ascend 
the steep valley of the famous old pass over which 
caravans have come for ages from all the rest of 
the world to shut-in China. The road led us up 
a steep canyon with splendid views of sharp-peaked 
mountain ranges and of the vast plain below. Near 
the bed of a torrent beneath we could follow the 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 353 

course of the old trail struggling up the valley. 
Here and there walls wandered off laboriously over 
the mountains, with fire towers on which the signal 
blaze was kindled to warn of danger. 

Finally we came to a station, where we got out to 
find many chairs waiting for us. Some of us got 
into them, and some walked. So we began our climb 
up to the Great Wall, and the gate of the Nankow 
Pass. Much of the way we followed the winding, 
immemorially traveled roadway, stony and rough, of 
the caravan trail. It thundered and began to rain 
a little, but just as we topped the Pass and came 
into view of the wall the sunset broke through. 
The glory of it set off both gate and wall in mys- 
terious relief, showing the latter coiled about the 
peaks like some huge serpent of mythology, its end- 
less lengths trailing away in the distance. 

As we climbed to the battlemented top of the 
gate, we saw, for a moment, a caravan of camels 
climbing slowly toward us. With spreading feet 
and great packs on their backs, their drivers walk- 
ing along beside them, they came swaying up the 
road in a strange, slow line. Nothing could have 
been more wonderfully timed for effect than the 
passing of this caravan through the ancient gateway 
in the glory and the beauty of the sunset after the 
rain. Later, as we came tracking down over the 
rough trail, it rained again, and this time we were 



354 ODD CORNERS 

drenched. But we soon reacEed the train and 
warmed ourselves at the little stoves for tea-making 
on board as we came back through the canyon to 
Nankow. Rooms had been reserved for us at a 
small station inn which was not very comfortable, 
but we had a good dinner there with a Chinese offi- 
cial as our host. The small inn yard was crowded 
with sedan chairs, and, as we turned in early, the 
last thing we saw was the coolies lying about asleep 
there in the moonlight. 

We were carried next morning in chairs of green 
and gold through a pretty valley to the Ming 
Tombs. Past decorative marble pailos, between 
lines of monster stone elephants and camels and ani- 
mals of the imagination, and over carved bridges, to 
the temple grove in which was the huge mound or 
mausoleum of the greatest of the Ming emperors. 
In one of the many big courtyards we wet our 
hands with the " lucky water " that springs mys- 
teriously from under a great carved stone. And be- 
neath the many-colored roofs with the carved cor- 
ners we opened our luncheon baskets and made 
merry in modern American fashion, forgetting for 
the moment the strange customs and splendors of 
the China of past centuries. 

One of the most interesting experiences in China 
was the imperial audience which my husband had 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 355 

the good fortune to be present at, so I quote again 
from his journal: 

" In behalf of his son, the baby Emperor of 
China, the Prince Regent received the Secretary of 
War, Mr. Dickinson, in his capacity of special am- 
bassador from the President of the United States. 
Only the day before the new Second Secretary of 
the American Legation had arrived with the letter 
from President Taft, having traveled post haste 
from Washington to get it to Peking in time for the 
Secretary to deliver it. The men of our party had 
the wonderful experience of accompanying Mr. 
Dickinson as a staff, passing with him through the 
most honorable of the great gates to the very throne 
of the Forbidden City. 

" The first arrangements for the Secretary's re- 
ception had been planned to give the party a sort 
of tributary appearance by having them enter the 
Forbidden City through one of the side gates. But 
the autograph letter from the President made the 
occasion of such importance that, by bringing pres- 
sure to bear, our admission was finally procured 
through the most honorable great gate, directly up 
to the Imperial Throne, that so few foreigners have 



ever seen.* 



" The men met at the Legation compound at a 

*This audience was, I believe, the last held there before the 
establishment of the republic. 



356 ODD CORNERS 

quarter before nine in the morning, and all took 
chairs for the procession to the audience. Now 
the chair is the most dignified of conveyances, 
and only certain people use it. The one intended 
for the Secretary had been sent by the Court, and 
had the imperial yellow trimmings, while those for 
the other men were green with red and black de- 
tail. They made quite an imposing array, for be- 
sides the eighteen members of the Embassy in 
evening dress there were several officers of the 
Marine Guard and the Military and the ' Language 
Officer,' all in full uniform. 

" The Marine Guard paraded, and the bugle 
blew, and the procession passed out of the com- 
pound gateway into the street, where an escort of 
Chinese cavalry fell in ahead. So we moved along 
through crowds of onlookers, in our swinging chairs 
borne by pattering coolies. It is not far from our 
Legation to the main entrance of the Forbidden 
City, and the company soon turned in under an in- 
significant gate which admitted us to a large paved 
square, grass-grown and dilapidated. Surrounding 
it was a fence-like rail of stone, over which crowds 
of people were staring. A group of court servants, 
with red and yellow jackets over their gray robes, 
stood in double row in the center, and the proces- 
sion passed across the wide, empty space to the 
first of the great gates. 




> 

s 



w 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 357 

" It was a huge pink-walled gate — called Wu- 
Men of the City of the Son of Heaven — with three 
arched portals closed by heavy, hob-nailed doors. 
These swung back and the procession entered, sa- 
luted by a guard of soldiers, while picturesque 
groups of lesser officials and servants stood about. 
The courtyard in which we found ourselves was so 
long that it seemed endless— it must have been at 
least a quarter of a mile — and the gate at the farther 
end looked very small, though it was by no means 
so in reality. A flagged way extended down the 
middle, and the sides were overgrown with a tangle 
of weeds and grass. In the distance water carriers 
paced along with their bamboo poles balanced over 
their shoulders, and servants stopped their work to 
stare at these foreign intruders who had presumed 
to enter the sacred way. Enclosing the court were 
long lines of yellow yamens, with crows cawing on 
their upturned roofs and handsome magpies spread- 
ing their tails or flying about. 

*' We traversed this long space and came to 
another great pink-walled gate — named Ta-Ching- 
Men— which was noble in the Chinese style, making 
use of broad plain spaces to set off the richness in 
color and design of the architectural details. Here 
we all got out of our chairs while two court chairs, 
open-seated and borne by two bearers only (the 
regular sedan is closed and carried by four coolies), 



358 ODD CORNERS 

were provided for Secretary Dickinson and Min- 
ister Calhoun. Many soldiers were gathered about, 
and servants of different grades; more guards of 
honor presented arms; under the gates were the 
groups of bowmen and lancers with their antiquated 
weapons set up in rows — a remnant of past times, 
indeed! 

" Across another wide quadrangle and through 
a third gate we passed into a court of fine propor- 
tions with a noble pavilion opposite raised on a 
chubutra of terraced marble with a richly carved 
balustrade. It was reached by a bridge over arti- 
ficial water. Then came another and yet finer court- 
yard with beautiful marble terraces, stained by the 
weather to the color of ivory. Opening the doors 
for us to pass from one courtyard into the next were 
eunuchs. On either side of the portals of one gate 
stood stone lions, grotesquely rampant; a later gate 
had splendid beasts of bronze on guard, and giant 
incense burners of great beauty. In each succeed- 
ing court the effect of repose and yet of richness 
and beauty of color seemed to grow. 

" There was a pavilion with a double towering 
roof of a mellow yellow, and behind it, flanked by 
walls of tile with a yellow and green design which 
broke the rosy background, was the gate Chieng- 
Ching-Men. Here many officials stood and sol- 
emnly greeted the Embassy. The Secretary and 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 359 

the Minister descended from their chairs, the 
eunuchs opened the doors as we ascended the steps, 
and we all walked into the magnificence of the last 
court. 

^' Above the roofs of imperial yellow tile which 
crowned in fantastic shape the pavilion opposite, the 
Throne Hall of Audience, rose the green ridge of 
a hill with kiosks and summer houses — a lovely 
background for the scene beneath. Lions and in- 
cense burners of gilded bronze shone resplendent at 
the sides of the approach to the Throne Room. The 
court was enclosed by heavy-roofed yamens and 
galleries of rich color, and the whole effect was 
magnificent. 

" We were conducted to a room at one side, ar- 
ranged half in European style, with a table set for 
a repast after the audience. Here we met the 
higher court people and awaited the readiness of 
the Regent. In a few moments this was announced, 
and we went out again, to find that meantime the 
hereditary princes, carrying spears with tassels of 
red horsehair with pendent leopard tails, had taken 
their stand in rows on each side of the marble 
bridge. About the threshold of the pavilion oppo- 
site were crowded eunuchs and officials. The room 
within, which opened in three wide entrances to 
the air, was filled with courtiers on each side up 
to the throne. 



36o ODD CORNERS 

** Crossing the long bridge, we entered by the 
central portal, bowing once outside, once just inside 
and a third time as we all grouped ourselves within. 
There was a somber light. Because the Court was 
in mourning all the officials wore a simple dress con- 
sisting of a darker garment over a light blue robe 
which showed only at the bottom and in the collar. 

" The throne was on a dais with three sets of 
steps divided by low lacquered balustrades leading 
up to it. Across the back was placed a large, richly 
carved screen of a dull, heavy, reddish gold. In 
front of this stood the empty Dragon Chair of the 
Emperor, heavily carved and gilded. Before this 
was a table covered with white and dark blue silk, 
while at either side were peacock fans in standards. 

" Towards the front of the dais, below the 
throne, were the simple chair and table of the Re- 
gent. As the Secretary — who, with the Minister, had 
advanced into the room — approached the throne, 
the Regent stood. Mr. Dickinson read a fine ad- 
dress, which was translated by someone behind 
him, and the Regent replied. Then the Secretary, 
using both hands, passed him the President's letter, 
all wrapped in imperial yellow silk. The Regent 
received it with both hands and, turning, laid it on 
the table in front of the empty Dragon Throne. 

" This done, Mr. Dickinson bowed and retired, 
the Minister and ourselves bowing at the same time, 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 361 

three times as we backed out through one of the 
side spaces opening out of doors. We were no 
longer bearers of a letter to the Emperor, and so 
we were no longer privileged to the honors of the 
middle entrance. 

" Returning to the side room, we were joined by 
several dignitaries. After a short delay, the Sec- 
retary and General Edwards, with the Minister 
and the Legation secretaries, were taken to a small 
pavilion room, where they had a brief * confidential 
audience ' with the Prince Regent. On their coming 
back, we all sat down to a little luncheon, at which 
informal toasts were drunk. After that we went 
away, through other picturesque side courts and 
gateways, to find our chairs again. In them we 
moved in long procession, out of a side gate of the 
Forbidden City, with troops saluting and escorting, 
back to the Legation. 

*' Words can do poor justice to the experiences 
of that morning, when we passed through places of 
wonder which few foreigners have ever been al- 
lowed to see, and stood by the Dragon Throne of 
the Son of Heaven, surrounded by that Court of 
Ancient Ceremonies, in the heart of that old, old 
Chinese Empire." 

At last the day came for us to leave this 
city of all cities. During the trip from Peking 



362 ODD CORNERS 

to Hankow all China seemed to glide slowly 
by our windows, with its crumbling walled cities 
and villages and its vast stretches of beautifully 
cultivated paddy fields, flat, glistening and green. 
Not always flat, though, for often they were broken 
up into irregular terraces which followed perfectly 
the contours of the land, climbing up into the ravines 
between the hills, till these finally became gro- 
tesquely pinnacled mountains. On the higher pla- 
teau the kaoliang grew like tall, tasselled sorghum, 
with corn and millet and beans in long stretches of 
varied color — greens and browns and yellows laid 
on the landscape in square patches. Over them 
moved always the picturesque figures working, work- 
ing, to produce this miracle of complete cultivation. 
But strangest and yet most characteristic of all 
were the mounds of the tombs of the ancestors — 
little mounds grouped among the workers in the 
fields, with children playing on them, and the plows 
just rounding their bases so as to cut off a wee 
bit at a time to add to the field — very carefully, 
so that the ancestor would not know! Beneath 
clumps of trees were hillocks containing a higher 
class of tombs; at times there were vast reaches of 
rolling prairie all covered with them. Some were 
marked with small stones. A rich man might even 
have a little pagoda to distinguish his resting place. 
In the hillside were semicircular tombs. In fact, 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 363 

wherever you looked there were graves. For all 
its fertile fields, the country was like one vast ceme- 
tery. 

So, at last, through this country of life and death, 
we came to the big yellow river — the Yangtse. The 
train was delayed for a whole day by a wreck on 
the line. This wreck illustrates the individualistic 
trait which is so typical of the Chinese character. 
Railway embankments had held back water from the 
paddy fields. The rice crop had been poor, conse- 
quently the farmers, thinking only of their own 
immediate interests, had done what they could to 
destroy the railway. So we had to wait over. The 
Chinese are called the Jews of the East. Each man 
is for himself and does nothing for his town or for 
society in general. I hear, however, that since the 
people have begun to share in the government they 
have felt more interest in it and there has been a 
growth of patriotism hitherto unknown in the Celes- 
tial Empire ; but even today the South hardly knows 
what the North Is doing. Aside from the mandarins, 
a few rich shopkeepers, and a small middle class, 
the people are miserably poor. 

Such a surprise greeted me at Hankow — there 
was a fine esplanade along the river bank, lined 
with pretty European houses built of brick and 
stone, set among lovely gardens, and a race course 
that might have been a French track. The whole 



364 ODD CORNERS 

place, In fact, might have been Trouville, instead 
of the heart of China. But the illusion vanished, 
for the Chinese part of the city was even " more 
so " than any other we had seen. It had been rain- 
ing and the dirt was beyond words. I saw people 
take water out of stagnant pools to drink and to 
wash their clothes and themselves. In the mud 
sprawled children begging, some without clothes, 
some blind, some deformed. Through the narrow, 
filthy passages men went carrying loads, and sang 
and called out and ran into you, while the mangy 
chow dogs barked at you. 

The stores were very fine, though, with great 
entrances and often with courtyards decorated with 
evergreens cut in the shape of lions with queer eyes 
stuck into their heads. The shopkeepers were very 
hard to deal with, because they seemed to have no 
interest in selling anything. Some would take off 
vast amounts when you purchased, others nothing 
at all. You never knew what to expect. 

From Hankow we took a French boat down the 
river to Shanghai, passing every now and then a 
raft loaded with lumber, which was being steered 
slowly down stream. Often they had two or three 
hundred people on board, and we were told that 
families not seldom lived on them for several years 
at a time. The yelling boatmen and swift current 
made it rather exciting. Our steamer stopped at 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 365 

several small towns with walls running up steep hills. 
One was a pirate town where no missionaries were 
allowed to enter. The largest pagoda in China was 
there — built to propitiate the God of the Winds. 

At Nankin carriages met us — a closed one for 
two of us women that was like a chicken coop, 
a sort of coupe with white shutters such as is pro- 
vided for the concubines. Inside it was decorated 
with a mirror and paper flowers. The town was 
not so congested as some that we saw, but the peo- 
ple looked very poor and wretched. Some of the 
houses were of stone, others of mud and straw. 
Long ago, when Nankin was the capital of China, 
it had two million inhabitants, but now that the seat 
of government is in Peking this old city has dwin- 
dled to a few hundred thousand. (No one knows 
what the population really is in any part of China.) 
The troops seen In the streets looked small and 
oddly dressed — khaki and military caps did not go 
very well with the pigtails, which had not then been 
cut off. 

Perhaps the most interesting sight In Nankin was 
the Drum Tower, which was built two centuries 
before Christ. After ascending dark stone steps on 
the outside of the tower, we finally reached the top. 
Here, under a slanting roof of four colors, was a 
huge stone turtle. The earth Is popularly supposed 
to be flat, and to be held up by four turtles, one 



366 ODD CORNERS 

at each corner of its surface. On either side of 
the turtle was a carved and painted wooden figure, 
one representing the Goddess of Mercy, who is the 
only Chinese goddess, holding in one hand a lotus 
root and in the other a child, while the other 
figure portrayed the God of Medicine with a pill in 
his hand. 

On arriving in Shanghai we found it had its for- 
eign quarter, with race courses and gay restaurants 
and a rather poor hotel. The Chinese part of the 
city was walled in and had the usual narrow, smelly 
streets lined with shops. Here and there were 
groups of boys tickling fighting crickets. As soon 
as they got the little creatures angry enough they 
would put a couple in a box and watch them fight, 
betting on the result. We did a little shopping, and 
an enterprising Chinaman offered to buy my hat for 
two dollars, much to our amusement. The Ameri- 
can Consul gave us a reception and garden party. 
The guests were mostly Americans, but there were 
some English and French present. Chinese high 
officials came, dressed in black flowered silk jackets 
and long brocaded coats, with white trousers reach- 
ing down inside their black satin shoes. Their caps 
were trimmed with brown fur, and some wore crys- 
tal buttons, while others had red coral or blue ones, 
showing their rank. 



WITH OUR SECRETARY IN CHINA 367 

From Shanghai we went by steamer to Hong- 
kong. The night we arrived there four of us went 
out in chairs suspended on poles and carried by two 
coolies each, so that we hopped up and down to the 
motion of their stride till there seemed nothing left 
of us. In the Chinese part the streets were much 
wider than usual, with arched doorways through 
which one caught glimpses of naked shoulders 
drooping over counters, and of domestic interiors 
as well — blue walls, white lace curtains and four- 
posted bedsteads seemed to be the fashion in Chi- 
nese bedrooms. Above were the overhanging bal- 
conies with prettily dressed women leaning over the 
railings and looking down into the street. Some 
of the women wore short jackets and trousers of 
white and pink, others longer coats of black silk or 
blue cotton. 

We passed several hotels of two or three stories 
and gay-looking restaurants with quantities of gilded 
carving. This lively part of the town was well 
lighted, and signs of black and gold or red and 
gold hung from the doorways, adding to the bright 
effect. As a rule, it is not a pleasant experience to 
pass through a Chinese city where they are not used 
to seeing foreigners. Children hoot and call one 
names— all kinds of names. Old men hiss and 
growl and shake their fists. Things are thrown at 
one — once in Canton a nasty decayed vegetable 



368 ODD CORNERS 

dropped into my chair. On foot it is even worse. 
One is immediately hemmed in by the vile, dirty 
crowd, pulling, pushing, grabbing, jostling. At a 
temple we were once almost mobbed, and had to run 
for our lives. 

The feeling of helplessness is most uncomfort- 
able. There is no way of protecting one's self, be- 
cause if a blow be so much as threatened the horde 
would make nothing of killing one. The Chinese 
certainly have no love for the foreigner, although 
Hongkong being, like Shanghai, a seaport, the peo- 
ple there are more cosmopolitan than elsewhere in 
China. 

It was from Hongkong that we sailed away in 
search of other odd corners, and left perhaps the 
oldest and most remarkable kingdom in the world 
for our new possessions in the Far East — the Philip- 
pine Islands. 

THE END. 



